The Slytherin Gryffindor
by Cheryl Dyson
Summary: This is my response to JKR's horrific epilogue. It's a dual novel with one part Albus Scorpius and one part HarryDraco. Deathly Hallows compliant! The Slytherin Hufflepuff is the Albus Scorpius portion. This fic contains MATURE adult content.
1. Chapter 1

**The Slytherin Gryffindor**

Reunion 

Draco flipped through the book idly and then returned it to the shelf. He perused the nearby titles and scowled in annoyance. Why did he even bother looking here? He would most likely have to put in a special order.

Movement snagged his attention, and he turned to see another patron of the bookstore midway down the aisle. The man was intently examining a shelf of books with his head tipped slightly upward. Draco admired the man's profile, thinking it had been a long time since he had seen anyone quite so delicious. The man had exquisite features, straight nose and jaw, beautiful cheekbones, a throat that begged to be kissed, and a slender, fit body that looked infinitely shaggable, even partially hidden by dark robes. A mop of thick black hair adorned his head, making him look like he had just rolled out of bed after a long night of dissolute behavior.

Draco sighed regretfully. Anyone that good-looking had to be taken, most likely married to some shrewish female that wouldn't have the first clue how to keep a man like that happy. Still, nothing ventured, nothing gained, as they say. Draco walked over to the man, silent as a shadow, and reached over the brunet's shoulder to rest a hand against the shelf, partially trapping his prey. They were of a height, Draco noted.

"Looking for something in particular?" Draco asked huskily.

The man stiffened slightly, but did not move away. "Erm… Not really, I'm just browsing."

Draco's eyes flicked to the subject matter, and then back to the man's nape. Draco enjoyed the way the midnight hair curled slightly where it touched the man's collar. He longed to put his fingers into it and feel the texture. He had always had a thing for brunets. "Looking into Archaic Magic, then?"

"I like to research obscure spells. You never know when they might come in handy." The man's voice was just as fascinating as the rest of him—low and almost sensuous.

"That's quite a coincidence. I have a huge library full of obscure spell books," Draco said, feeling the man's hair tickle against his lips gently as he spoke. He breathed in the heady scent emanating from him—the man smelled like someone who spent a lot of time outdoors, windblown and somewhat wild. Draco wanted to tip the man's head aside, taste the pale neck, and work his way downward from there.

"Do you work here?" the brunet asked and turned around, still partially trapped by Draco's arm. Their eyes met, and Draco noted with surprise that his eyes were quite shockingly green, a color he hadn't seen since—

"_Malfoy_?" the man asked sharply.

Draco staggered back until his arse hit the shelves opposite. He gaped at the black-haired man.

"_Potter_?" he replied in the same shocked tone.

The two men stared at each other. How long had it been? Ten years? Twelve? And where the hell were those stupid spectacles the Chosen One usually wore? The hair that covered his forehead and touched the thick, black eyelashes effectively hid the famous scar.

"You look… different," Draco said, struggling for normalcy in a world gone suddenly insane. He had been trying to seduce Harry fucking Potter!

Potter nodded. "I don't need glasses any more. St. Mungo's came up with a spell that made them unnecessary."

Draco cursed himself. How could he not have known it was Potter? It should have been obvious from the hair alone. And of course he was fit, the prat was a bloody Auror, still the Golden Boy of the Ministry, although he was no longer a boy. _Not by a long shot_, Draco thought, raking his eyes over Potter's tense form.

The green eyes narrowed and Potter straightened. "Were you trying to—?" Potter asked, and then shook his head abruptly. "No, never mind." He turned and started to walk away.

"Was I what, Potter?" Malfoy demanded.

"I said never mind, Malfoy," Potter said and continued to march toward the front of the store. Draco felt a familiar flash of rage. Damn if Potter had lost his ability to make him see red! He stalked after the Gryffindor.

"Running away, Potter?" Draco taunted just as they reached the end of the shelves and entered a small seating area flanked with window alcoves.

"Back off, Malfoy!" Potter snarled. Draco set his jaw and caught Potter on the shoulder. He spun the Gryffindor around, enraged without really knowing why. He grabbed the front of Potter's robes in both hands and shoved the brunet against the end of a bookshelf. Several volumes fell over from the jolt.

Draco leaned close to Potter until his lips brushed against the Chosen One's soft earlobe. "Yes, Potter, I _was_ trying to lure you into my bed," Draco said softly. "Because you looked like you haven't been properly fucked in a very long time… _if ever_."

Draco pulled back and noted with satisfaction that Potter's eyes were tightly closed, and there was a distinct unevenness to his breathing. The Gryffindor raised his hands and shoved hard against Draco's chest. Draco stumbled back, and met Potter's enraged glare with a challenging smirk.

Draco suddenly noticed Scorpius and another boy talking quietly in a window seat nearby. The children had witnessed the exchange, something Draco would never have allowed under normal circumstances. Of course, nothing involving Potter ever seemed to be "normal circumstances".

"Scorpius," Draco said sharply, "Come along."

Without another glance at Potter, Draco swept out of the bookstore. Scorpius trailed obediently behind.

Draco paced the Malfoy library from the window to the fireplace, and back again. Scorpius watched him curiously. Draco forced himself to breathe deeply and relax. He smiled at his blond son.

"So… you seem to have made a friend," Draco commented.

Scorpius shrugged. "Perhaps. His name is Albus."

Draco recoiled, and then reprimanded himself. For fuck's sake, why did he always allow Harry Potter to affect him? Of course, this was the first time he had been overcome with lust because of the Gryffindor…

"Albus Potter?" Draco asked quietly.

"He didn't mention his last name. Who was that man?"

"His name is Harry Potter. I'm sure you'll hear all about him once you get to Hogwarts." Draco was pleased to note his tone did not sound the least bit sarcastic. "Run along now, Scorpius. I have some research to do."

Scorpius nodded solemnly and went out without a word. Draco looked after him for a moment, suddenly wondering if Scorpius spent too much time alone. Draco remembered feeling terribly lonely as a child. Was he doomed to make the same mistakes his parents had made? Did he keep Scorpius trapped in this mausoleum alone too often? Draco hurried to the doorway and called after his pale son. The boy turned.

"Would you like to go to Paris this evening? We'll have dinner and find something interesting to do afterward."

The brilliant smile on his son's face made Draco lean against the doorway for a moment, nearly overcome with adoration and pride. Martinique was a vicious bitch, but she had given him Scorpius. For that, he would gladly pay her bills and support her self-indulgent habits.

He vaguely wondered at his wife's whereabouts, and then returned to the library. He cast a quick spell at the cabinet containing his archived Daily Prophets.

"Show me every issue with an article about Harry Potter going back… three years."

Draco was appalled at the size of the stack of papers that flew to the top of his desk.

"The famous Harry Potter," he murmured as he sat down. He lifted the most recent volume from the pile. "Let's see what you've been up to lately."

Stalking Harry Potter 

It took Draco four months to realize he was stalking Harry Potter, and another three months after that to admit he was obsessed. Once he accepted it as fact, he found it easier to acquire information on the Auror, probably because he wasn't fighting himself at every turn. He learned everything there was to know about the public life of the Chosen One, most of which Draco already knew. Potter was, of course, married to his childhood sweetheart, Ginevra Weasley. They had three children, James, Albus, and Lily. In between expelling children, Ginny played Quidditch and worked part-time at Weasley's Wizard Wheezes in Diagon Alley. She had not played Quidditch at all for the past two years, citing an old injury as her reason for retirement. Draco suspected she was simply not quite good enough to keep up with the younger players.

Harry Potter had worked at the Ministry since leaving Hogwarts, first tracking down former Death Eaters, and eventually righting other types of wrongs for the Ministry. He had gone through a succession of partners, Ron Weasley among them, until Weasley had left the Auror Department and accepted a post in the Department of International Magical Cooperation. The on-record reason for that change stated that his wife, the esteemed Hermione Granger, had preferred he take a job less dangerous after the birth of their first child, Rose. Draco thought it far more likely the Weasel finally realized he would never measure up to Potter and finally stopped trying.

Granger, of course, worked in the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, and spent an inordinate amount of time investigating Draco in the vain hope of turning up something illegal. Unfortunately for Granger, she would always be several paces behind Draco, especially without Potter's luck guiding her footsteps.

Potter was extremely dedicated to both his family and his career, and was universally loved by all. Draco snorted. Thus he concluded his research into Harry Potter's public persona.

Potter's private life was more difficult to uncover.

Scorpius had turned into a genuine Malfoy, surreptitiously arranging meetings with his new friend, Albus Potter. Draco had intercepted several owls from young Potter, and had willingly acquiesced to Scorpius's requests to travel to Diagon Alley for various reasons. It did the boy good to have a friend, even if that friend bore an uncomfortable resemblance to his father. It also boosted Scorpius's confidence to think that he maneuvered Draco to achieve his own ends.

Draco was loathe to pry information from his own son, especially when he was pretending not to know about Albus Potter, but he was damned curious to know the status of Harry Potter's personal affairs. Draco could not even scheme properly until he had the answer to that particular question.

The answer to Draco's dilemma arrived at the Manor for Christmas dinner. Draco had met the young man a few times prior, but had never had much use for the lad, until now. Narcissa Malfoy had made up with her sister, Andromeda. It had taken several years after the war, and months after Lucius died, for Narcissa's loneliness to become nearly overwhelming. The presence of Scorpius helped, and Narcissa was far more of a mother to the boy than Martinique, but she needed feminine companionship.

Draco had been surprised when his Aunt Andromeda appeared at the Manor one afternoon, but she seemed to be just as wounded as Narcissa. Eventually, the two of them became nearly inseparable. Andromeda Tonks was a frequent visitor to the Manor these days. Teddy Lupin's presence was much more rare.

"Cousin Ted," Draco said after guiding the teenager into the library after dinner. "You are quite close to the Potters, are you not?"

Teddy gazed at him warily and scratched his head thoughtfully with a finger. His hair was platinum blond, which Draco thought was rather unusual considering his brown-haired father.

"Sure," the boy said finally. Draco smiled. Lupin was almost as wary as a Malfoy.

"You will finish Hogwarts next year, correct? Have you given any thought as to your career choice?"

Teddy sat up quickly, and his brown eyes brightened. "I want to be an Auror, like my mum."

Draco nodded thoughtfully, and wondered how much of that desire was due to Potter's inspiration. "Perhaps Harry Potter's influence can help you there, eh?"

Teddy shook his head. "Oh no. Uncle Harry would never do that. He says we have to earn our way." Teddy flushed. "He has been teaching me some advanced spells, though. He says Professor Lovegood is a good teacher, but she doesn't always teach things that would be useful in the real world."

Draco bit back several unkind comments, and managed to say nothing. Luna Lovegood teaching Defense Against the Dark Arts was an act that surely defied the laws of nature. Luckily, Scorpius would receive plenty of training in that particular field right here at home.

Draco shook his head sadly. "A pity. If I worked in the Ministry, I would certainly use whatever means necessary to help you out."

Teddy grinned. "Thanks, Cousin Draco. I should be able to manage on my own. Of course, I still have to finish school, and then pass the Auror exams." A look of consternation crossed the teen's face. "I just hope Victoire will wait for me to get a job. I won't be able to buy a house or anything until then…"

"Girlfriend?" Draco asked, although he already knew that Teddy Lupin and Victoire Weasley were a couple. They had been since childhood, apparently. Draco had seen Bill Weasley's daughter several times. Victoire was a true beauty, luckily getting her looks from her French mother rather than her ginger father, although Bill Weasley had been quite handsome in his younger days.

Draco sat forward, as if suddenly inspired by a thought. "How would you like to work for me?" he asked. Teddy blinked at him.

"But… I…" He took a breath. "Thank you, cousin, but I really want to try for an Auror position."

Draco chuckled. "You can still do that, of course. I meant right now. You can do odd jobs for me and I'll pay you. You can start saving for that house early."

Young Lupin shot to his feet. "You mean it? What sort of odd jobs? Of course I'll work for you, as long as it's not illegal. I've heard Auntie Hermione nattering on about you a time or two…" Teddy flushed.

Draco waved his comments away. "Errands, mostly. Fear not, I'll keep you busy. You can work for me here during your holiday breaks, and also during the summer. I'll require you to be here three days a week during the summer, and possibly more."

They discussed salary and other trivialities, and when Teddy left, Draco sat back in satisfaction. He had just purchased an informant.

Quidditch Queue 

Draco saw Harry Potter several times after the incident at the bookstore, but always from a distance. He wondered if Potter intentionally avoided him, and decided it was likely. Regardless of how many times Draco saw the Auror, Potter never seemed to see Draco. One notable exception occurred at the Quidditch World Cup, the summer before Scorpius was due to start school.

Draco sat in a higher box than Potter, who was in the best pitch-side seats near Minister Shacklebolt. Ever the celebrity, Draco sneered to himself. He alternately watched the game and Harry Potter, adding to his mental list of information about the Auror.

Teddy had been a valuable font of information, but he tended toward taciturn silence in response to questions about Potter's personal relationships. Draco knew nearly everything there was to know about Potter's past, but his present remained something of a mystery.

Draco realized he should have sought out Potter in a public setting—not that such an opportunity often presented itself. Potter's social life seemed to revolve around the Ministry and his children, to the exclusion of all else. It was such a waste.

Watching Potter with his family was enlightening. Potter did not sit beside his wife; the young auburn-haired daughter sat between them. Potter's copy—Scorpius's friend Albus—sat on the other side of Potter, and then the older brother, whose hair was dark brown. Quite the collection, but at least the boys had been spared the Weasley calling card.

Draco noted no touches between the adult Potters—no hand clasping, no brushing of shoulders, no quick touches to draw attention to something on the pitch. They might have been strangers for all they interacted. Interesting, considering they were supposed to be in _love_. Draco glanced at his own wife, seated on the other side of Scorpius. Draco smiled as he acknowledged that he would not touch Martinique for all the Galleons in Potter's vault. He had already done that once; he suppressed a shudder at the memory.

Martinique's cold green eyes slanted toward him, and she pasted a false smile on her beautiful lips. She despised Quidditch, but her contract with Draco required that she attend a minimum of four public functions with him per year. She could well play the role of perfect wife and dutiful mother. She had better, for what Draco paid her.

Draco dismissed her to watch Potter again. The Auror got up—alone—and headed out, probably to seek out the loo. Draco got up to follow.

The line for the row of toilets was fairly long—this was the World Cup, after all, and the weather was nice enough to ensure record attendance. Draco maneuvered himself until he stood directly behind Harry Potter.

He leaned into the Auror slightly, and touched his lips to the back of Potter's ear.

"Having fun, Potter?" he asked, and suppressed a chuckle when the Auror stiffened.

"Malfoy," Potter said politely and tried to step away without crowding into the bloke in front of him. "Yes, having a lovely time. You?"  
Draco crowded. He touched as much of Potter as he could get away with, and drank in the scent of Potter's hair.

"I'm having fun now," Draco purred. His hand moved between them to rest gently on the small of Potter's back. He had been admiring that back as the game progressed, and felt it only fair that he should be allowed to touch it in tribute.

Potter obviously felt otherwise, but he was trapped.

"What are you doing?" he snarled.

Draco's fingers splayed and curved over the flesh covered only by a thin Muggle t-shirt. Draco had never been a fan of Muggle clothing, but now he saw the merit in a quick tug that would expose Potter's warm skin to Draco's questing hand. And the jeans cupping that amazing arse… fuck, Draco was getting hard.

"Haven't been touched in awhile, Potter?"

The Auror spun around angrily, obviously hoping to dislodge Draco's hand, but the movement backfired. Draco's palm stayed flat against Potter and ended up pressed into the flat abdomen instead. The green eyes widened, and Draco reflected that they were so much brighter and darker than Martinique's. He wondered if Potter's lenses made his eyes look so large and wild.

"I thought you did not wear glasses any longer," Draco commented, and the question seemed to diffuse whatever remark Potter had meant to make. The Auror glanced around, likely recalling that he was a famous spectacle. No one in the milling crowd paid him any mind, intent on attaining snacks and beverages, or relieving themselves before rushing back to the game.

"I wear them for public appearances," Potter said. "They're cosmetic."

Draco sneered, although he had not meant to. "The trials of celebrity," he drawled. His fingers itched to move down over Potter's waistband, but he knew such an action would get him hexed insensible.

Potter's eyes narrowed. "I don't find you at all amusing, Malfoy," he snapped. "Get your hand off me."

"You just don't know me, Potter," Draco replied softly. "I'm very amusing." His fingers traced lightly over Potter's shirt, wishing he could Vanish the material. It would be worth a hex or two.

"I don't want to know you, Malfoy. Now sod off."

With that, Potter left the queue and stomped off into the crowd. The Auror ignored Draco for the remainder of the World Cup, and disappeared with his family immediately thereafter.


	2. Chapter 2

Hogwarts and Hufflepuffs 

The next time he saw Potter was on Platform Nine and Three-quarters on the first of September. Draco stood next to Scorpius. The boy tried to act calm and unruffled, but Draco knew his grey eyes were darting about, seeking familiar faces. The billowing steam prevented them seeing much of anything, but the Potter clan was heard long before they were seen. Draco recognized Ron Weasley's voice just as a familiar dark head emerged from the white cloud. The ginger shrew walked beside Potter, and their three children were in tow. Draco noticed his son lock eyes with Potter's middle child, and Albus grinned in sunny abandon. The smallest grin quirked Scorpius's lips.

Martinique stepped closer, but made no move to touch her son. Draco's jaw clenched. It had taken him three owls to remind her that she even _had_ a son, and two more to persuade her to leave her latest boy-toy in Singapore and join them for Scorpius's sendoff.

The Potter-Weasley children thundered about, tugging at their parents, yelling boisterously, and generally behaving like the blood-tainted uncultured louts they were. Draco was relieved to note an exception was Albus Potter. He stood next to a small version of Hermione Granger (Weasley), and seemed quite subdued.

Ron Weasley suddenly noticed Draco, and moved over to Potter with a comment. The green eyes slowly turned toward Draco, who waited. Potter's face remained utterly expressionless, and Draco longed to drag the Auror away, out of the public light, and provoke some emotion from the git. Even anger was preferable to indifference.

Draco kept his own features still as marble, and gave Potter a cold nod before turning back to his son, dismissing the annoying man. The steam billowed, obligingly obscuring the Potters once more. Scorpius stuck out his hand toward Draco.

"Well, goodbye, Father," he said formally. Draco grinned at the stiff jaw of his son, trying to hard to be an adult. Draco knelt and scooped the boy into a hug.

"Idiot boy," Draco said affectionately, and squeezed Scorpius nearly to the breaking point. His son laughed in delight and squeezed back. "Write me often, and do not let me hear of any antics from the staff."

Scorpius nodded solemnly as he drew back. Any antics would be reported immediately to Draco from Scorpius's own hand. His son well understood that. Unpleasant surprises were not to be tolerated.

Draco released him. "Next time I see you, you'll be wearing Slytherin green, no doubt. If not… well, we will take that as it comes."

A minute look of relief crossed his son's fine features, and Draco realized the boy had been quite worried about facing the Sorting Hat. Draco was not worried at all. Scorpius was Slytherin through and through.

"Goodbye, Mother," Scorpius said as Draco stepped back. Martinique obediently leaned down and placed a cursory peck on her son's cheek. She moved away, duty fulfilled, and Scorpius turned and hurried to the train. Draco did not stand around like Potter and the other sentimental fools, waiting for the train to leave. He needed a drink. The Manor was going to be wretchedly empty without his son. Draco did not plan to face his first night of solitude sober.

Martinique was barely out of sight of the gathered wizarding families before she sneered at Draco and Disapparated. For a moment, Draco hoped never to see her again.

_Dear Father,_

_You might want to sit down before you read the rest of this letter._

A shard of fear slipped into Draco, and he nearly sat, until he sternly reminded himself that he was a Malfoy. Besides, Scorpius was eleven years old, and it was the second day of school. How much trouble could he have gotten into?

_I hope you will not be disappointed in me, but I was not sorted into Slytherin. In fact, I've been sorted into Hufflepuff._

Draco sat down. So great was his astonished horror that he nearly missed the seat.

_Hufflepuff_. He read the words again, hoping his eyes had deceived him. _I've been sorted into Hufflepuff._

Draco got to his feet in a seething rage and paced the room like a caged puma. _My son, a Hufflepuff_. He nearly incinerated the letter, but Scorpius had written more. Draco could not bring himself to read the rest.

_My son, the Hufflepuff._

Draco froze. It was Potter's doing. The Potter boy had gotten to Scorpius. All of those secret meetings that Draco had condoned had come back to haunt him. The Potter boy had somehow turned Draco's beautiful Slytherin son into a fucking _Hufflepuff_. In fact, it had probably been an elaborate plot engineered by Potter himself.

Draco Disapparated.

Draco marched into Potter's office at the Ministry, bypassing the hoard of underlings and clerical types that tried to stop him. Everyone knew where Potter's office was located—Draco had not even needed Teddy Lupin for that information.

The Super Auror was actually at his desk. Draco assumed there was a momentary shortage of people to rescue.

"You are responsible for this, aren't you?" Draco demanded, thrusting Scorpius's letter under Potter's nose.

Potter's eyes—unspectacled again—flicked from Draco to the crowd of ineffectual minions hovering about the door. Potter waved them away casually, as though Draco was no threat at all, and they needn't worry for his safety. Draco glared, and itched to turn that assumption into a lie. Draco had over twenty years of pent-up need to be seen as a threat to Potter.

The Auror sighed, and his attention returned to scratching a quill to parchment.

"Responsible for what, Malfoy?" he asked in a tired tone.

"This!" Draco gritted, and shook the letter again. "My son has been sorted into Hufflepuff."

The green eyes rose to his, and Potter dared to smile. "I know. I was quite shocked to hear it—though not as shocked as you, obviously. My son was, also."

"I knew it was a plot!" Draco yelled.

Potter stood up and leaned over his desk. His green eyes flashed.

"That's enough, Malfoy! I cannot believe you're this hung up on something so trivial!"

"Trivial?" Draco bellowed, and then forced himself to lower his voice. He had already caused a scene. There was no sense in making it worse. "Trivial?" he hissed, planting his hands on the desk and leaning across to meet Potter halfway. "This is not trivial, Potter. The Malfoys have been in Slytherin since the founding of Hogwarts! Ravenclaw I might have accepted, Gryffindor perhaps, but _Hufflepuff_?"

Draco's voice throbbed with intensity as he sought to convince the Auror of the importance of the situation. Potter did not seem impressed.

"You know, Malfoy, I think you are entirely too fixated on labels. You insist on pigeonholing everyone you meet into neat little categories. Slytherin, Gryffindor, Pure-blood, Mudblood. People cannot be boxed, Malfoy, they resist. It's human nature. You, of all people, should know that."

Potter's sincere voice was mesmerizing. His eyes were like deep mountain pools, and his lips were close enough to kiss, if only Draco leaned forward a bit.

"What do you mean by that?" Draco asked softly, seeking meaning in Potter's words where perhaps there was none.

Potter shook his head, and then seemed to realize the nearness of their faces. He drew back. "Never mind. Besides, Albus said the Hufflepuff thing was your son's idea."

Potter sat back in his chair and picked up his quill. Draco reared back and pondered which of a dozen hexes would cause the Auror the most pain, and yet allow Draco to escape the Ministry without arrest. Potter watched him coolly, and the hint of a smile touched his lips, as if daring Draco to do just that.

Draco went home.

Draco felt like something of an idiot when he finally finished reading his son's letter. He poured a drink and sat in his favorite chair to ponder the news. He skimmed the parchment once more.

_Before you destroy anything in a rage…_ Draco smiled grimly. He had not destroyed anything, but he had made a complete arse of himself in front of Potter. _…allow me to explain. I was informed that the Sorting Hat will take a student's choice into account…_ Draco had scowled and wondered why the brat had not chosen Slytherin, if that were the case_. …and it occurred to me that spending seven years in Slytherin would involve constant effort, scheming, swindling, and maneuvering for position. Well do I recall your tales and advice, Father._ Draco nodded. He had tried to prepare his son for the intrigue and politics involved in being Slytherin. _It seemed a far easier route would be to infiltrate the weakest House, dazzle them with my brilliance, and lead them out of their sheeplike existence. I shall become the greatest Hufflepuff ever, and I shall lead them to victory._ Draco had actually stared at the page like a loon, and had been heartily glad that no one was nearby to witness the expression_. They are like plums ripe for the plucking, Father, and the effort shall be minimal, especially when I have a faithful champion at my side who is no more Hufflepuff than I. _Draco's lips curved. Albus Potter, no doubt, coerced into Hufflepuff, but having the soul of a Gryffindor_. I shall rule Hufflepuff, for as you told me once, it is better to rule in hell than serve in heaven, and is not Hufflepuff House Hogwarts' version of hell? I await your response with hope of your understanding._

_With love, Scorpius._

Draco sipped at his Firewhiskey, and thought about his son's brilliance. Truly, the boy was Slytherin beyond even Draco's wildest imagining. He had taken cunning and scheming to a new level. The Hufflepuff King.

Draco thought he might burst with pride.

Confession 

After a month, Draco realized he was slowly going mad. He actually lived for the weekly visits from Teddy Lupin, who was now a full-fledged Auror. As Teddy worked directly for Harry Potter, he was a veritable plethora of information. Draco knew every bloody move the Auror Hero made. In detail.

"…and then Harry let fly with a hex I've never even seen before!" Teddy's face lit with a brilliant glow as his hands flashed in the air. He was describing a case he had recently been on with Potter—something involving a serial rapist who would Obliviate his victims. "He's so bloody fast, it's like watching a… a dance, or something! He's amazing, really amazing…" Teddy broke off, flushing. His worship of Potter had stopped irritating Draco long ago. In fact, he now found it rather endearing.

Teddy raised a hand to tug at his platinum hair in a gesture so reminiscent of Potter that Draco had to grin. Teddy smiled sheepishly.

"Well, here I am again, going on about Harry," Teddy said. "He's just so…"

"Yes, yes, everyone adores the bloody Savior."

"Everyone but you."

"Oh, never fear. I adore Potter in my own way," Draco admitted.

"Draco, why do you always ask about Harry? I mean, you seem to hate him most of the time. At first, I thought you plotted his downfall, and later I thought you were simply curious about a life so different from you own… But now, I just don't know."

Draco sighed. He had known the day would come when Teddy would ask difficult questions. He was simply too smart.

"Let's walk in the garden and I'll tell you."

The garden path was immaculate, as always, and Draco walked quickly to the lavender roses that had been his mother's favorite. He breathed in their heady scent for a moment, and allowed himself to be swept into boyhood memories.

Teddy waited patiently, and Draco sighed as he straightened.

"I've been obsessed with Harry Potter since I was eleven years old," he said, possibly admitting it to himself for the first time. He smiled self-deprecatingly. "Ask anyone who knew us back then. In sixth year, he was equally obsessed with me… although that was solely for the cause, of course." Draco laughed. "A long time to carry a torch, I'll admit."

Teddy sucked in a breath. "Carry a—? You mean you are—?"

Draco grimaced and waved a hand airily. "Yes, Teddy, but you need not worry. I've barely seen Potter in the past twenty years, and I realize he is happily married, _and_ straight, _and_ despises me, etcetera, etcetera."

Teddy still looked mortified, and Draco's eyes narrowed. "Speak."

"Erm… Well, you are married, too…"

"Don't remind me. I married Martinique to continue the Malfoy line. She is perfectly aware of that fact, and has been since my proposal. I performed my duty, as did she. We have no intention of spending one moment longer than necessary together."

"Then what do you do for—?" Teddy seemed unable to form a complete sentence.

"What do I do for companionship?" Draco finished for him. Teddy nodded. His face was quite red. "What did you do before you took up the gauntlet of abstinence in preparation for your impending engagement?"

Teddy's blush darkened. "Ahem. Never mind. I was simply surprised, is all. I never would have guessed."

Draco smiled. "It's nice to know my poncy behavior is not excessive."

Teddy laughed and visibly relaxed. "Definitely not. So, your fascination with Harry is motivated only by… personal interest?"

"Of course. I keep hoping he will leave his wife and rush into my waiting arms."

Teddy choked a laugh and Draco pulled a face.

"What? You're saying it's impossible then?"

Teddy stopped trying to hold it in, and burst out laughing. Draco smirked, but the boy's laugh was infectious. Draco could not stop himself, and the awkwardness between them dissolved as Draco's laughter erupted. They bonded in mutual hilarity for a few minutes.

"I never thought I'd be able to call you an idiot," Teddy said when he could speak without chuckling.

"Don't let it go to your head," Draco warned. He slung an arm around the boy, and they started toward the Manor. Teddy glanced at him sideways.

"Draco, you've never been interested in… well, _me_, have you?"

Draco snorted. "A homely lad like you? Honestly." He laughed when Teddy's punch caught him in the midsection. "No, Teddy, you're barely older than Scorpius. And you're not exactly my type."

"Not heroic enough?"

"Not enough of an insufferable arse."

Teddy slugged him again and Draco winced. The boy huffed, "Stop maligning my idol."

"He's my object of unrequited lust. Object trumps idol, so I shall malign him all I like."

"You're so weird."

Draco scrubbed a knuckle through the boy's hair as vengeance for the punches. "You don't know the half of it."

When Teddy had gone, Draco walked in the garden alone and wondered when the lad had stopped being Draco's informant and had turned into a genuine friend.

The Pureblood Club 

Pansy dropped in later in the month, appearing uninvited in Draco's bedroom at an ungodly hour one morning. She tore open all the curtains to admit a ridiculous amount of light.

Draco flung an arm over his eyes.

"You are a hellish bitch, Pansy. Remind me why I have not adjusted the wards to block your ingress."

"Because I'm one of the few people alive that will still talk to you, Draco. It's almost noon, you selfish, lazy prat. Now get up and take me to lunch. I'm famished and bored."

Draco yanked the blankets over his head. "Go downstairs and tell the house-elves to feed you. Let me sleep for another hour."

Pansy tried to pull the covers back, but Draco had a good grip on them. He smirked at her effort.

"No, damn you! I want to rub elbows with the unworthy, and show off a gorgeous man on my arm. I also want to go shopping."

"I am _not_ going shopping," Draco huffed.

"You will buy me a new pair of boots, or I will come back tomorrow morning, even earlier. And the morning after. And the morning after that. Now, get up this instant."

Draco threw his covers back with a snarl and sat up. Pansy's eyes slid over him appreciatively. Draco smiled lazily and stretched, having no problem whatsoever with being admired, even by an evil succubus with no sense of propriety.

Pansy dragged him to a café in Actu Alley, a part of wizarding London with several businesses that bordered the Channel. Draco thought the food was substandard, and the coffee was wretched. He nearly switched to tea, but he thought they might screw that up even worse.

Pansy kept her hand over Draco's for nearly the entire meal, and made fake happy greetings to several other patrons.

"Pansy, you are not going to impress anyone by being seen with a former Death Eater."

"No one cares about that anymore," she said. "All they know is that you are a beautiful man."

"Can we finish this endless meal? I have business to attend to."

Pansy pouted. "That is all you do, Draco. You never have any fun any more."

Draco grimaced. "Your idea of fun and mine are leagues apart."

"Not so far, I think. I've joined a new club, and I want you to come with me tonight. I think you'll be properly entertained."

Draco rolled his eyes and Pansy slapped his hand lightly. "Don't be that way. Come for a drink, at least. You want to know the fun part? It's a pureblood club."

Draco burst out laughing. "What is fun about that? How many members are there? Six?"

"You would be surprised," she said. Something in her tone made Draco's eyes narrow. He waited expectantly. "Your little obsession's wife is a member."

Draco did not bother to ask to whom Pansy referred. Pansy always had known Draco better than he knew himself. He sat back, contemplating her information. So, Ginny Weasley-Potter had joined a little pureblood club. Draco wondered what her hero husband thought of it. If he even knew. Pansy would not have brought it up at all unless Draco would find the information useful. Asking Pansy would gain him nothing. She would just smile at him cagily.

"All right," he said. "I'll come with you."

Draco was annoyed before they even arrived. Pansy had appeared with an idiotic uniform for him to wear, in an effort to provide anonymity, or some such nonsense. It consisted of a white silk shirt, buttonless, that fell open to his navel, topped with a hooded black cape. Black trousers covered his legs—thank Merlin—he would have balked completely at loungewear. A white half-mask concealed his face. Only his mouth and chin were left exposed.

"This is ridiculous,' Draco said. "Although you look fetching."

Pansy's mask and cape were the same as Draco's, but instead of shirt and trousers, she wore a white corset with a wisp of black silk skirt. A smile curved her red lips. "You look gorgeous, darling. I would suggest staying in, if only I were your type."

Draco smiled winningly. Pansy had known Draco's preferences nearly as long as Draco himself.

She added, "Perhaps I'll find a new boy toy tonight, and you can find a… Potter look-alike?"

Draco rolled his eyes. "Stop, already. I'm not that obsessed with Potter."

She arched a brow. He could tell, even though her mask hid it. "Really? So you don't actually pay Greg to keep you posted on Potter's whereabouts whenever he is at the Ministry?"

Draco flushed. Damn Goyle and his inability to keep his fucking mouth shut. Then again, Pansy could pry state secrets from the Minister himself, if she so chose.

"I just like to keep an eye on the obnoxious git, in case he decides to fuck with my life, or something."

She smiled knowingly. "Or something. You had best take off your rings. They are fairly recognizable."

Draco sighed, but obediently plucked off the diamond and emerald ring that was his favorite, his grandfather's antique ring formed of snakes entwined in a complicated Celtic knot, and the plain platinum wedding band. The Malfoy signet could not be removed without dire consequences; instead he twisted it around so the emerald and the stylized M faced his palm, leaving the platinum band exposed.

He handed the cast-offs to a house-elf, who disappeared to deposit them in Draco's bedchamber. "Shall we go?" he asked.

Pansy Apparated them to a large house that bore a remarkable similarity to Malfoy Manor. It sat in the midst of what seemed to be deserted acres of land. Draco studied the area carefully, but the place could have sat nearly anywhere in Britain. The weather was still warm, and it was a clear, perfect night.

The house was opulent on the exterior, with colonnades and bEricwork, wrought iron and elaborate scrollwork. Light spilled onto the manicured grass through several windows as they approached the front steps.

There were two hooded and masked wizards flanking the front doors. They cast several spells on Draco and Pansy—the first to detect their pureblood status, the next to detect weapons or malicious spells. Two others had a purpose unknown to Draco, but he quickly memorized them in order to look them up when he returned home.

Once past the gauntlet, they entered a dimly lit room that looked like a converted ballroom. Several tables had been set up for cards, dice, and other games of chance. A roulette wheel spun lazily at one end of the room, flanked by a number of cheering witches and wizards dressed the same as Draco and Pansy. Trays floated about the room, laden with an assortment of drinks and hors de oeuvres.

Pansy snagged a glass of champagne for herself, and a snifter of cognac for Draco. He sipped at it and was reluctantly impressed with the quality.

"Who funds this club?" he asked.

Pansy shrugged. "We all do, for the most part. The dues are bloody insane. But the original patron is unknown. News and events are posted in the front parlour."

"What sort of events?"

"Costume balls, alternate locations for meetings, that sort of thing," she said, but her voice carried the evasive tone that Draco recognized at once. He looked at her sharply, wondering what she was hiding, but she nudged him with an elbow.

He followed her gaze across the room. A dark skinned man glided down the winding staircase, and made his way straight to Draco. Mask or not, Draco recognized him immediately. The particular caramel-bronze shade of his skin was fairly unique.

"Draco Malfoy," the man murmured and leaned forward to place a light kiss on Draco's lips.

"Zabini," Draco replied.

Blaise traced a finger gently over Draco's chest, following the faint line of the Potter-induced scar, barely visible after all these years. "So formal, Draco? After all we've been through? Good to see you, anyway. I had hoped Pansy would talk you into joining us one day."

Blaise stopped touching Draco, although his amber eyes held Draco's gaze as he moved closer to Pansy. He looked away and kissed Pansy on the cheek.

"Pansy, darling, you look lovely, as usual."

"You're charming as ever, Blaise."

Blaise stepped back and chuckled. "All right, that's enough with the names. We're supposed to be anonymous here, right?"

"You started it," Pansy muttered and sipped her champagne.

Blaise reached out and touched Draco's jaw with a cool hand. He slid his thumb over Draco's lower lip. "I hope to see you later," he purred. Draco smiled like a predator and watched Blaise stride across the room to accost his next victim.

"Fucker," Pansy hissed.

"Broke your heart, did he, Pans?" Draco murmured.

She snorted. "What about yours?" she countered. Draco shrugged. It had been a near thing. The bastard was still gorgeous, with his caramel skin and perfect smile. Draco had nearly fallen… but Blaise had gotten careless. Draco demanded exclusivity in his lovers. Blaise had known that, and had promised quite fervently that he would be faithful. Naturally, he had lied like a Death Eater. Draco had not allowed affection to cloud his natural distrust of all things Slytherin, and he had caught Blaise in no less than three affairs. It had been disappointing, but not unexpected. Draco thought it unlikely that Blaise even understood the concept of fidelity.

Draco allowed Pansy to coax him into a game of wizard whist, playing a hapless couple that was completely outclassed by the ruthless Slytherins. Draco was quickly bored once the game ended. Pansy caught him edging toward the door more than once, and finally she murmured, "Patience," in a singsong voice. Draco sighed and resigned himself to waiting for Pansy's grand revelation.

His patience was rewarded when Pansy straightened. Draco casually got to his feet and shifted until he could see the person arousing Pansy's attention. The newcomer was instantly obvious.

She was dressed much like Pansy—white corset, white mask, and voluminous black cape covering her head nearly completely. The freckles dotting the pale skin of her chest gave away her identity, at least to Draco. Ginny Weasley-Potter.

Draco was curious, so he left Pansy and sauntered over to Potter's wife. Her small breasts were pushed nearly out of the corset top, and her lips were bright red. Draco checked his own hood to ensure his hair was fully covered.

"Bon soir, Mademoiselle," Draco said softly, altering his voice slightly and affecting a French accent.

Ginny smiled prettily. Draco could not see much of her face, but she looked to have aged well. Her body was in fine shape, at any rate.

"Good evening, sir," she said pleasantly. Her blue eyes sized him up, and her smile widened.

"This is my first time here," Draco said. "I feel a little out of place."

She put out a hand to touch his arm. "Would you like me to show you around?" she asked. Draco smiled and nodded, mentally patting himself on the back. She was far too relaxed to have recognized him.

She ushered Draco around the room, pointing out the various gaming tables and points of interest while asking him questions about himself. Draco made up a colorful history about a life in France and the possibility of moving to Britain. He allowed his fingers to trail up her arm now and again, and was disappointed when she drew away each time. She finally frowned at him when he leaned close to her.

"Excuse me, Monsieur," she said, "but I have monopolized enough of your time. It was nice to meet you."

She patted his hand in a friendly gesture, and moved away into the bustle of bodies. Music had started in one dark corner of the room, and several couples were dancing. Draco made his way back to Pansy.

"Bludger to the head?" Pansy asked dryly.

"Nearly," Draco replied, somewhat disappointed. He had hoped to lure Mrs. Potter… if not into his bed, then quite close to it, merely for the opportunity of breaking the news to the Chosen One. Apparently, the little vixen was only here to play cards and mingle with the other happy purebloods. Maybe it was time for Draco to stop obsessing over Potter and get on with his life. The thought made him want to retch. "Can we go now?"

"Certainly," Pansy said instantly and stood up. She fussed with her cape for an inordinate amount of time, until Draco was ready to snatch her wrist and drag her bodily from the building. She finally started for the doors, only to stop just short of freedom. She turned. "Draco, dear, I think I left my handbag in the powder room."

Draco scowled. "You did not bring a handbag."

"I'm certain I did."

"You did not."

Her lips tightened obstinately. "I did. Go and fetch it for me."

He glared at her, knowing she could argue long into the night. "What does the nonexistent thing look like?" he snarled. She described a tiny, black beaded, bejeweled, Merlin-knew-what else, bloody handbag, and Draco stalked down the hall toward the alleged powder room. Halfway there, he halted in shock.

Blaise Zabini and Ginny Potter were locked in a heated embrace, kissing madly against the brocade wall of the dark hallway. Draco made an apology in French, and turned away. Ginny had stiffened and tried to push Blaise away, but Zabini did not even pause. His hands were beneath the corset, and his lips moved to Ginny's pale throat. Draco looked back once, to find her hands wrapped in Blaise's dark hair—apparently satisfied that her anonymity was safe.

Pansy waited with her arms crossed. Her lips were curved in a smirk. "Well?" she asked dryly.

"You're such a bitch," Draco said, but took her arm to escort her outside.

"Seeing is believing," she replied. Draco had to agree. He might not have believed her if he had not seen the proof with his own eyes. Potter's wife was having an affair with Blaise Zabini.

Rather than the expected elation, Draco found himself curiously depressed.


	3. Chapter 3

**Resolutions**

Draco was ranting. He knew he was ranting, but he couldn't seem to stop himself. He had imbibed three glasses of cognac at that stupid pureblood club, and the alcohol was making free with his tongue.

"How could she?" he demanded, striding across his bedchamber and waving his fourth glass of cognac, because this news simply demanded a drink. He had shucked the foolish mask and cape and shirt, leaving only the black trousers. His bare feet made no sound on the thick silk carpet, which was almost disappointing. He felt the need to stomp loudly. "I mean, I always knew she didn't deserve him, but to do _this_? With Blaise Zabini, of all people?"

Pansy lounged on Draco's bed, sans cape and mask. "Oh come now, Draco. You and I both succumbed to Blaise's charms. How do you expect the little Weaslette to be different?"

Draco sipped his drink and glared at her. "Because she's a Gryffindor. Because it's Potter. Because she's supposed to uphold all those morals and ideals they all hold so dear. Because… because…" His voice trailed off, and he finished quietly, "Because it's Potter."

Pansy sighed. "Draco, I worry about you. You were always obsessed with Potter. When did you become smitten?"

Draco looked into the flickering fire, not willing to meet her eyes. If he did, he would feel like an idiot. He wasn't smitten with Potter, he really wasn't. Maybe he was a bit smitten with the _idea_ of Potter. "Well, he'd never do that to her," he said instead of answering her question.

"Of course not. The Golden Boy can do no wrong. Everyone knows that. Hell, I tried to seduce him myself."

"_What_?" Draco demanded, turning on her so quickly a bit of the cognac splashed his hand.

She held up a hand. "Down Draco! I said _tried_. It was years ago, at one of those dull Ministry functions. I went with that Ravenclaw fellow with the golden hair, the one that works in the Games and Sports Department… what was his name?" She must have noted Draco's expression, for she hurried on with her explanation. "Anyway, I got roaringly drunk and accosted Potter in a dark alcove. I used every tEric in the book, but the noble bastard simply escorted me back to… whatever his name was… and explained that I had imbibed too much and should probably be escorted home. He managed to do it without making me feel cheap and tawdry, also."

"You are cheap and tawdry," Draco growled.

"Tawdry, perhaps, but _never_ cheap. Besides, you're just angry because I dared to make a move on your little crush."

"Moved and snubbed," Draco said, a bit smugly.

"Indeed. I doubt Blaise could even crack Potter."

Draco sat down heavily on a nearby chair, realizing the truth of her words. Blaise would definitely fail against Potter, just as Pansy had failed. And if those two could never move Potter, Draco had less than no chance at all, regardless of the fact that Potter's wife betrayed him. Draco could not even tell him, because even if Potter believed him—and he would not—then he would simply hate Draco the more for breaking the news.

"This is fucked," Draco said.

Pansy made a noise of assent and snuggled into Draco's pillow. He knew she had no intention of moving from his bed. "'Night, Draco," she said.

Draco sighed and spelled the lights out. "Goodnight, Pans."

He got up and went to seek out another bed.

Draco tried to forget about Potter. He decided that the affair between Zabini and Potter's wife was none of his concern. Martinique made a brief appearance to pick up Scorpius from the Hogwarts Express, and actually sat in the Manor library and listened to several of Scorpius's tales from his first year of school. Scorpius happily included her in his conversation, and it was almost like they were a real family, an image that disturbed Draco slightly. Martinique had gone by morning, however, so her brief flash of maternal instinct had apparently not been overly strong. Draco hated the expression of disappointment on his son's face the next day when he found his mother fled once more, but Draco was glad of her absence. He decided to make up for her disappearance by taking Scorpius to China.

Draco had business in Hong Kong, but he made certain to spend most of his time with Scorpius. They explored ancient towns, studied centuries-old wizarding lore, sought out the hidden places in the Great Wall, and ate a lot of unfamiliar foods. Draco even bought Scorpius an authentic Samurai sword, which he swung about fiendishly until he nearly lopped off Draco's foot by accident, after which the sword was relegated to its burnished wooden case for safekeeping.

His son sent a huge number of letters and postcards to his friend Albus, and Draco was nearly sorry for dragging the boy halfway across the world. When they finally returned home, the Potters were gone. Vacationing in Greece, according to Teddy, who made things a bit easier by teaching Scorpius several Quidditch moves and taking him to Diagon Alley several times.

When the Potters returned, Teddy's visits lessened, due to Potter leaping back into work and apparently dragging the entire Auror Department with him. Scorpius made several "clandestine" visits to Diagon Alley to be with his friend Albus. Draco nearly choked one day when Scorpius asked if he hated Harry Potter. Draco explained carefully that he did not, in fact, hate Harry Potter.

Scorpius seemed far too interested in the subject for comfort. It appeared that his son's friendship with Albus Potter had not diminished with the time spent apart. If anything, they seemed more determined than ever to be together. Draco tried not to worry about that.

It was quite bad enough that they were both in Hufflepuff.

Scorpius made the Hufflepuff Quidditch team as Seeker, which had Draco in quite a good mood until Martinique accosted him in a public café. Draco had more than one informant in the Ministry, in fact he had close to a dozen, although most of them had no idea they were moles—they simply met with Draco and politely listened while he tried to sway them to his point of view. They had no inkling that he rarely cared about political motivation one way or the other; he simply liked to know everything that was going on, especially things that might concern Harry James Potter.

They would listen politely as Draco concocted whatever story he thought they wanted to hear, and then they would invariably spew a wealth of information. Even gossip could be a useful tool when properly utilized.

Martinique appeared suddenly, looking ragged and out of sorts. Draco had not seen her since her cursory appearance to escort Scorpius back to school. He had assumed her to be in Argentina or Brazil or somewhere. She had not even greeted him properly, nor acknowledged the man from the Department of International Magical Cooperation. She had plopped herself into a chair like a hoyden and said, "I need money, Draco."

Draco had been furious, although he was careful to keep his expression neutral. "We should discuss this in a more private setting, darling," he had said quietly.

"I don't want a more private setting!" Martinique had shouted. "I am tired of this arrangement of yours! I need more than I'm getting from this fucked up scheme of a marriage, and if all you can give me is money, then so be it!"

The other café patrons had looked at them quizzically, drawn by her raised voice. Draco had smiled like a shark and Obliviated the Ministry official before casting a Silencing Charm on Martinique and Summoning her wand. She had dared to leap on him in a rage, and her fingers had clawed for his throat. Draco had grabbed her and Apparated them to the Manor.

A screaming row of epic proportion had ensued, and Draco had banished Martinique from the premises. He had arranged for a veritable fortune to be delivered to a French bank account in her name, and then set about divorcing the shrewish bitch. Purebloods did not divorce. It simply was not done. However, Lucius was dead, Narcissa despised Martinique, and Draco did not give a shite what anyone else in the wizarding community thought of him.

He altered the wards on the Manor to forbid her ever entering again, and said a cheerful adieu to Martinique Malfoy. He thought it a pity he could not strip his name from her, but supposed it was a small price to pay to be rid of her forever.

He drafted two letters. One to Hogwarts instructing the Headmistress that Martinique was not allowed to visit Scorpius under any circumstances. The second was sent to the Daily Prophet, informing them that his wife was moving to the south of France for her health. News of the divorce would make the rounds soon enough. Draco planned to stave off the rumors as long as possible, for Scorpius's sake. Some of the purebloods at school would gladly use the news as a weapon. For the first time, Draco was glad his son was not in Slytherin.

Draco thought his determination to forget about Harry Potter was quite successful. Granted, he still kept tabs on Potter, but it was purely from habit. He had grown fond of Teddy, who dropped by at least weekly to give Draco a play by play of his latest case with Potter. Teddy let it slip that Potter was working like a demented fiend, and hinted that perhaps things were not exactly roses with Potter's home life.

Draco perked up immediately. "What's that? Are you saying there is strife in the household of the Great Potter?"

Teddy flushed, and Draco could tell the lad was sorry he had mentioned it.

"Harry is not going to leave Ginny," Teddy said flatly.

Draco blinked. "It is really that bad?" he asked, feeling somewhat guilty. Draco had not returned to the foolish pureblood club, whose official name he could never recall, but Pansy made sure to keep him posted as to the "Zabini situation", as she called it. Draco had been quite surprised that Blaise was still entertaining Potter's spouse. Draco had expected Blaise to toss the redhead long ago. He decided it must be the thrill of pulling one over on the Savior of the Wizarding World that kept Blaise interested.

"Never mind. I shouldn't have mentioned it," Teddy said. "Harry just… well, he's been working too much. I don't think Ginny likes it."

"Understandable. Perhaps he should take time off."

Teddy shrugged. "They went to Greece over the summer. It didn't seem to help."

Draco would imagine not, with Potter's wife pining away for Zabini the whole time. It could not have made for a happy holiday. Teddy seemed to shake himself. "Anyway, Victoire and I have set a date! Are you happy for me?"

"You mean despite the fact that marriage is the most wretched arrangement any person can enter into?" Draco asked.

Teddy laughed. "You must admit that your marriage was far from normal."

Draco bit his tongue to keep from replying, _Yes, but Potter's was, and look what that got him_. He shrugged instead, and grinned at the pale-haired boy.

"All right then, I'm happy for you. When is the wedding, am I invited, and what sort of horrendously expensive wedding gift are you expecting?"

"The wedding is next spring, of course you are invited, and I'm not expecting any gift at all, other than your presence."

Draco gave Teddy a genuine smile, oddly touched. "All right then, I shall cross the expensive gift off my list and have the house-elves dust off some of the old, useless silver in the storage room. How does that sound?"

"It sounds perfect." Teddy smiled fondly.

Draco waved him away. "Be gone from here. Your stupidity might be contagious."

**Harry Potter**

"Father, can my friend Albus Potter come and visit me? Since you don't actually hate his father, as you said," Scorpius asked innocuously one morning, nearly causing Draco to choke on his tea. He recovered after a short coughing spell.

His inability to breathe had given him a moment or two to consider the question. There really was no reason to deny Scorpius the dubious joy of Albus Potter's presence, and it was not as though Potter himself was part of the package.

"Provided you give me a list of rules beforehand, detailing what you and young Mr. Potter will not be touching, reading, entering, or demolishing during his stay here… I should say he might visit."

Scorpius actually leaped from his chair with a whoop before he remembered himself and sat back down. He picked up his fork sedately, but the huge grin never left his face.

"Thank you, Father," he said quietly. Before midday, Scorpius had provided a detailed description of the places and things forbidden to Albus Potter, and in mid-afternoon, Harry Potter and son appeared outside the gates of Malfoy Manor.

Draco watched from his bedroom window as Potter and Albus appeared outside the front gates. Draco sent a quick spell to open the gates just as Potter reached for them. He grinned slightly at Potter's expression, and kept his eyes on them during the long walk to the front door.

'They're here! Father, Al's here!" Scorpius cried from his doorway. Draco smiled and followed his son down the stairs. Scorpius managed to contain his exuberance, and did not race down the steps, but Draco could see the impatience in the set of his shoulders.

Scorpius reached the antechamber first, and cried, "Al!" Draco nearly laughed aloud when Albus Potter flung himself at his son and nearly knocked him off his feet.

"Down, Al," Scorpius reprimanded, but his voice was fond.

Albus stepped back obediently, and said, "Dad, you remember Scorpius?"

"Yes. Nice to see you again," Potter said pleasantly just as Draco entered. Potter's smiled faded instantly.

"Potter," Draco said, and nearly winced when his voice held the same tone of disdain he always seemed to use on Potter.

"Malfoy," Potter retorted in the same timbre.

"Come upstairs, Al," Scorpius hissed, barely loud enough for Draco to hear, "Before they change their minds!"

He grabbed Albus Potter's hand and they hurried from the room. Draco heard them pelt down the hall, and he smiled wryly.

"Would you like a drink, Potter?"

"God, yes. I mean… please."

Draco looked at the Auror carefully. He looked tense and almost… haggard. He had been the picture of health when Draco had flirted with him at the Quidditch World Cup. Now Potter looked like he had not been sleeping well.

Draco quickly prepared a gin and tonic with a twist of lime. He handed it to Potter, who looked at him quizzically.

"How did you know?" he asked, lifting the glass.

Draco smiled and let a touch of heat enter his gaze. "I know everything about you, Potter. Your favorite drink, your favorite color, which soap you prefer, your choice of broomstick… everything."

Harry sipped at his drink. "I don't even want to know why," he said and sat on the sofa. "Thank you for allowing Albus to come. He… well, he really seems to adore Scorpius."

"My son would simply have arranged a clandestine meeting if I refused. They have been meeting in Diagon Alley for years. Did you know?"

Potter blinked at him in surprise. Draco chuckled, but made no comment about Potter's obliviousness. His gaze sharpened suddenly, and he marched forward to grasp Potter's chin. The Auror jumped, nearly spilling his drink in alarm. Draco tipped the dark head slightly, to expose a jagged line that marred Potter's skin from his ear over his jugular, and down nearly to his collarbone.

"That's new," Draco said harshly. Potter flushed and looked away.

"I… It's nothing. I was a moment too slow fighting a—" Potter scowled and knocked Draco's hand away. "Well, what do you care? Disappointed that Eric stopped the bleeding before it killed me?"

Draco scowled. "You should be more careful. You're not twenty years old any longer."

Potter glared. "Thank you for the reminder. Since when do _you_ care about my safety?"

"I've always cared about you, Potter," Draco drawled, pouring himself a drink, as well.

Potter snorted a laugh. "You cared to see me dead for the first seven years, and cared nothing for me for the next seven." Potter held up a hand when Draco turned to retort. "Please don't try to explain. I'm certain your motivations would only confuse me."

Draco shrugged and sipped at his drink. "Perhaps not all of my motivations," he commented mildly. Predictably, Potter flushed. Draco felt a flare of amazement that Ginny Weasley was willing to give him up. Draco thought he would never tire of pulling reactions from Harry Potter.

Potter raised his glass. "One thing I can say for your company, Malfoy. It's never boring."

Draco smiled, oddly pleased by the comment. "Thank you, Potter."

The Auror finished his drink and bolted. Draco was careful not to touch the Chosen One again, mostly for the sake of Scorpius. He did not want to give Potter cause to forbid Albus to visit. And if Potter just happened to be lulled into a false sense of security, then so be it.

**Chocolate Towers**

Harry Potter made several more trips to Malfoy Manor over the remainder of the summer, either to drop off Albus or to pick up Scorpius. He never stayed long, and Draco found it more and more difficult to slip into the barbed animosity of their younger days. His heart simply wasn't in it. For one thing, every damned time he saw Potter, he wanted him. The Auror looked paler and thinner each time he appeared, and Draco began to question Teddy mercilessly.

Teddy had no idea what was wrong. He only knew that Potter had thrown himself into work like a madman, even coming up with his own cases when the Ministry could not produce them quickly enough.

"It's almost like he has a death wish," Teddy admitted one night, and then blanched. Draco gnashed his teeth and cursed Ginny Weasley. He knew damned well the cause of Potter's distress. Ginny was still deeply immersed in her affair with Blaise Zabini. If Potter did not know for certain, he most likely suspected.

The breakthrough came in early October. Draco had been avoiding the necessity of going over his Swiss accounts by stacking foil-wrapped chocolates into elaborate towers. He had constructed an impressive structure of nearly three hundred of them when Harry Potter Apparated into the room. Draco blinked at him in amazement, and his hand brushed a section of wall, bringing it down in a silver cascade.

Potter looked nearly as shocked. "I… erm… I really didn't think that would work. I was certain you would have wards that prevented direct Apparition."

Draco shrugged and scooped the fallen sweets into a pile. "You can Apparate into this room any time you like, Potter. I trust you." As a matter of fact, Potter could have Apparated to any damn room of the Manor that he chose, including Draco's bedchamber—although, of course that was wishful thinking on Draco's part. After Potter's first visit, Draco had reset the wards to allow Potter full access. He had not seen the Auror since the Hogwarts Express had taken their assorted children back to Hogwarts.

Potter fully gaped at him. "You do?"

Draco sat back with a sigh and began to unwrap one of the confections. "You really are oblivious, aren't you, Potter? Were you just testing my wards, or do you… want something?" He allowed his voice to rise hopefully at the end, just to see the pink tint Potter's cheeks. It worked as expected.

"I… no." Potter threw himself into a nearby chair and looked at Draco seriously. Draco slid the chocolate into his mouth and allowed it to melt. He tossed one casually to Potter, who snagged it out of the air without half trying. "Well, sort of. What do you know about a local pureblood club?"

Draco nearly choked. He was suddenly quite glad of the confection in his mouth, especially when Potter rushed over and began to slap him firmly on the back. Draco swallowed hard and coughed a few times.

"Thanks," he said shakily, struggling for breath. Potter's hand lingered in the middle of Draco's back for a moment.

"Sure you're okay?" Potter asked.

Draco nodded quickly. "Just swallowed wrong," he lied.

Potter's hand moved away, and the Auror retreated back to his seat. "Well, I doubt anyone would be surprised to find your tombstone engraved with the words 'Died of Sweets.'"

Draco huffed. "I can only think of one other thing I'd rather be dead of."

Potter actually cocked a brow at him for a moment, and flushed again at Draco's wickedly huge smile. The Auror actually grinned and tugged at his forelock. "Yeah, wouldn't we all?"

Draco sighed, wishing to extend the moment, but knowing it would simply disintegrate back into discomfort if he allowed it to stretch. "Pureblood club. I've heard of it."

"Are you a member?" Potter asked, sitting forward on his chair.

"Certainly not. I've better things to do with my time than sit around and play dull card games or watch a roulette wheel spin." Or snog Blaise Zabini in a darkened corridor, or join a pureblood orgy in one of the upstairs rooms…

"I think their entertainments may have… evolved," Potter said.

Draco waited curiously and unwrapped another chocolate. He bit off a piece, instead of popping the entire thing into his mouth this time. He shut his eyes and savored the melting sensation. Chocolate was truly exquisite. Potter watched Draco, instead of speaking.

"Evolved?" Draco prodded.

Potter peeled away the foil on his own chocolate and nodded. "Muggle-baiting. It's been going on for quite some time. We did not know who was responsible, until recently."

"What sort of Muggle-baiting?" Draco asked, licking the sweet darkness from his fingers. He resolved to have a little chat with Pansy—it suddenly became clear what she had been hiding from Draco in regards to the activities of her little club.

"Malicious hexes in random villages. Nothing life-threatening so far, mainly things Muggles can mistake for disease—boils, hair loss, an epidemic of teeth falling out, chills that cannot be dispelled… It took a while for us to even link the occurrences, but when Hermione began to research similar incidences, there turned out to be quite a lot of them. Going back at least a year."

"And you thought I was involved?" Draco asked dryly. Surprisingly, Potter shook his head.

"No, it did not seem your style."

Draco cocked a brow. "Not my style?"

Potter chuckled. "No, I simply can't envision you sneaking around in a mask and cape. If you ever perform an evil deed, you'll likely emblazon your name upon it in letters three meters high."

"Like a Dark Mark?" Draco snapped.

Potter sobered. "No. Something classier."

Draco blinked at him. "Was that a joke, or a compliment?"

Potter tossed the wadded up wrapper at Draco, who caught it before it hit him in the forehead. The Auror shrugged. "A compliment, I suppose. I think maybe you've… changed a bit in the past twenty years."

Draco picked up a piece of parchment and a quill from his desk and offered them to Harry Potter. "Can I get that in writing? I think I misheard you."

Potter tugged at the hair over his scar, a habit that Draco was glad to see had not diminished over the years. "Don't let it go to your head. I'm only learning to tolerate you for Albus's sake."

"Then why are you here?" Draco asked with a knowing grin.

Potter flushed, already retreating from his momentary bout with honesty. "I don't know. I just thought you might be able to help. Forget it."

Draco stood up and rounded the desk before Potter could escape. "No you don't! You do not drop in here and act like we are actually… friends, or something, and then try to blow it off as though it's nothing. If you want my bloody help, then cough up some of your fucking Gryffindor courage and ask for it."

That got a rise out of Potter, whose face immediately took on the irritated glare that he most often wore in Draco's presence.

"Fine! I'm asking for your help!"

Draco halted in front of the Auror, close enough to touch. He kept the smug grin from his lips with effort. "Was that really so difficult?"

"Nearly impossible," Potter snapped. He stepped back, likely in case Draco got the idea to actually touch him, even though Draco had successfully resisted such actions for months. "Do you think you can? Help me, I mean?"

Draco sighed, stamping down his elation. It figured that Potter would finally ask for something, and that something would be extraordinarily hard to achieve. "Well, I can't join their little club. It would look suspicious, after I've avoided it so studiously all this time. I would suggest using Goyle, but he is well-known to be my…"

"Evil minion?" Potter suggested.

"Loyal follower," Draco corrected with an edge to his voice. Potter chuckled, and Draco had the sudden urge to throw him down on the thick carpet and shag the life out of him. He forced the thought away. He sighed. "All right, Potter. Let me see what information I can find for you. Give me a few days." It would probably take that long for Draco to track down Pansy and bribe some answers from her.

"Okay. And Malfoy… erm… thanks."

Draco smiled, and gave Potter a look to let him know that Draco's assistance always came at a price. Potter looked away, pretending he had not seen it. The Auror mumbled a quick goodbye and Disapparated, leaving Draco pondering ways to extract payment from the Gryffindor hero. It was nearly an hour later that Draco realized he needed to actually dig something up before Potter would owe him anything. He quickly sent an owl to Pansy Parkinson.


	4. Chapter 4

Parkinsons 

Pansy admitted that the idiotic pureblood club had engaged in a few instances of harmless Muggle-baiting, and Draco made certain she was aware of his disapproval.

"Oh for pity's sake, Draco," she said huffily, "It's not as though we're killing anyone."

"You've drawn the attention of the Ministry, and it won't be long before Potter and his Aurors shut down your little operation. You'll be bloody lucky not to spend time in Azkaban."

Pansy rolled her eyes. "The Ministry is as money-hungry as ever. They might not let any of us 'former Death Eater spawn' join the Ministry, but they sure as hell won't thumb their noses at our money. If any of us are caught, we'll simply throw Galleons at the problem and it will go away."

"Money can't solve every problem, Pansy."

"Money can't solve _your_ problem, Draco. It does patently well for the rest of us. Why are you taking an interest in this, all of a sudden?"

"Is Potter's wife still shagging Blaise?" Draco countered.

Pansy rolled her eyes. "It always comes back to Potter, doesn't it? Yes, she is. And before you ask, yes, she has participated in our little Muggle-baiting escapades. According to Blaise, she thinks it's a bloody lark. She's the perfect little wife at home, taking care of the brats and playing Sainted Woman to the Hero of the World. Can you imagine how fucking boring that must be?"

Draco could not imagine anything less boring than being partnered to Harry Potter, but he had never given Ginny Weasley credit for much intelligence. He had thought Pansy to be different, but she was rather a special case. She was an entity all to herself, at least when it came to relationships.

"I need to give him some information," Draco admitted.

"You've got to be joking. You want me to play spy so that you can get into Harry Potter's pants?"

"No, I want you to play spy because these little games are going to end in someone being hurt, and I don't want that someone to be _you_," Draco snarled.

Pansy's mouth curved in a pretty pout. "Oh, you do care about me."

"Of course I care about you. Do you really think these antics are going to endear the Ministry to the purebloods? We're already becoming an endangered species."

Pansy sniffed. "You and I did our parts. We're not dying out yet."

"Yes, there are possibly twenty purebloods at Hogwarts this year. As opposed to hundreds of half-bloods and Muggleborns."

"Listen to you! Muggleborns! You've really been infected by Potter, haven't you? Can you even _say_ Mudblood?"

"I'm not getting into another argument with you over Potter. Are you going to help me with this, or not?"

"All right, yes. Fine, damn you. The whole Muggle-baiting bit was getting boring, anyway. You'd best make up for it by providing me with alternative amusement, Draco Malfoy."

Fuck. That meant ushering Pansy to dull function after dull function, and escorting her from expensive restaurant to expensive restaurant. Potter had bloody well better be worth the bother.

Stone 

"Cousin Draco! Come quickly!" Teddy bellowed, waking Draco from a sound slumber. Draco threw himself out of bed, trying to shake the dregs of sleep. He tried to remember the last time he had been roused in the middle of the night. It had been years, at least.

Teddy had burst into his bedroom and then thundered back down the hall. Draco caught sight of the Auror's cloak as he rounded the corner and pounded down the stairs.

"What the hell is it, Teddy?" Draco yelled.

"It's Harry!" Teddy cried. "Hurry!"

Draco nearly broke his neck leaping down the stairs. He burst into his study to find Teddy kneeling over a prone Harry Potter. Draco joined him. Potter was dreadfully pale, and looked dead.

"What happened?" Draco demanded.

"We stumbled upon a group of hooded figures tormenting Muggles. Harry yelled at them to halt, of course. They turned on him immediately. Bloody hell, you should have seen him, Draco! He took on five of them alone. Eric and I tried to help, but there were so many. We were all hard-pressed." Teddy took Potter's hand and squeezed it. "He blocked most of the curses, and disarmed two, and then he was hit from behind. I didn't hear the whole spell, but Harry recognized it. He went down."

"Why didn't you take him to St. Mungos?" Draco asked harshly. Teddy's eyes were miserable, and Draco noted with surprise that the boy's hair was brown, instead of its usual silver-blond.

"They fled as soon as Harry fell. I ran to him, and he was still conscious. I don't know how he managed it. The pain had to be incredible. He said the spell was Dark Magic, very dark. Well, the first thing I thought of was you, of course. St. Mungo's will waste too much time trying to figure it out. I don't think Harry has that kind of time. We need to find the counter curse now!"

"You did the right thing," Draco said, praying it was true. "What was the spell?"

"Something like _Mutus Calcula_," Teddy said. "He's turning to stone, Draco. I cast _Finite Incantatum_, and every Slowing and Healing Charm I could think of. Eric did the same, and I think we managed to slow it down, but it's still spreading. Look at his hands. Draco picked up Potter's other hand, and was chilled by the unnatural feel of it.

Draco cast an urgent spell. "Find every book that mentions _Mutus Calcula, Muto Calculus_, and all similar variations!" Books began to fly from the shelves, thankfully few in number. Draco discarded all but the Darkest of the tomes. Despite the urgency, he was careful. Some of the books were dangerous merely to open without the proper wards and spells of protection.

"Take him upstairs, Teddy," Draco said quietly. "Make him comfortable. I'll find the proper spell and be right up. Where is Potter's illustrious partner?"

"He went to the Ministry to cover for our absence," Teddy said as he Levitated Potter and maneuvered him through the door. "It was not easy to convince him to let me bring Harry here. I'll need to send him a message as soon as possible."

Teddy continued out with his burden, and Draco turned his attention back to the books. He cross-referenced the spell, taking extra time just to be certain. When he thought he had the correct information, he picked up the books carefully and headed upstairs. The boy had placed Potter in the bedchamber adjoining Draco's. He wasn't quite sure what to think about that.

Teddy had mostly undressed Potter, leaving him clad only in boxers. His feet were already chalky, with marble-like veins. His hands looked similar, and Potter's breathing was labored. Draco hoped to hell the process could still be reversed.

He opened the book and cast the spell carefully, enunciating every syllable with precision. A thick fog seemed to coalesce around Potter's body, spilling from Draco's wand. The air cooled to almost unbearable levels. The original spell was very Dark indeed, and the counter-curse was molded from the same cloth. While researching it, Draco thought he felt Theodore Nott's hands all over the casting. It would be his style.

The spell was long and tiring. It was one that took energy from the caster, and Draco poured as much as possible into it, making damned sure he did his best to save the Auror, and not just because he looked good in one of Draco's beds.

At last he collapsed on the edge of the bed, trembling. He raised a shaking hand to his forehead and touched a sheen of sweat. Teddy, across from him, looked tense and no less worried. Draco wanted to ask if it worked, but he saw the same question in the boy's eyes. They both watched carefully to see if there was a noticeable change. Absolutely nothing seemed to happen.

Teddy sighed heavily. "I guess I'd better get him to St. Mungo's. I really thought this would be faster, and have a better chance of success." He got to his feet.

"Wait," Draco said. He had picked up one of Potter's hands, and the rough flesh suddenly felt warmer. Draco bent down and touched his cheek to it, hoping he had not been dreaming. He sensed Teddy grabbing Potter's other hand.

"Draco, I think you did it. Listen to his breathing—it seems to have eased. I'm sure of it."

Draco rested his head on Potter's chest, and listened to the thud of the Gryffindor's heartbeat. He had noticed it racing before, as Potter's body struggled to pump blood to tissue slowly hardening into stone. The heart rate seemed to have slowed, and Potter's skin was definitely warming.

Five minutes later, Potter's hand in Draco's was fully pliable. Teddy nearly sobbed with relief.

"Thank Merlin," Teddy breathed. "I need to let Eric know. I think I'd better tell him in person. Will Harry be all right here tonight?"

"I'm certainly not going to ravish him in this state," Draco said dryly, although he could not quite manage to give Teddy his usual smile. The young Auror grabbed his shoulder and squeezed gently.

"I'll come back for him in the morning," Teddy said. "Victoire will be beside herself with worry, by now. Thanks, cousin."

"No need to thank me, as you well know," Draco replied. "Get some rest, and for pity's sake don't wake me up at the crack of fucking dawn."

"It's nearly that already," Teddy said. He stood up and Disapparated.

Draco pulled the blankets over Potter, and then climbed into bed with him. He felt a distinct urge to wrap himself around the hero and keep him safe.

Draco awakened once, when the warm body against his stirred, stiffened, and began to move away. Draco's grip tightened.

"Don't go, Harry," he murmured. Slowly, the taut muscles beneath Draco's forearm began to relax. Draco sighed happily and pressed a kiss into the warm skin that lay against his face. "Love you," he mumbled, and drifted back to sleep.

He opened his eyes and wrinkled his brow in puzzlement. _This is not my room_, he thought, moving his gaze over the unfamiliar pattern on the hammered metal ceiling. A whisper of sound drew his attention and he turned his head to see Harry Potter reclining on the bed next to him. The Auror was fully clothed, damn it all, and he had one elbow propped on a pillow to hold his head up. Draco was glad to see a soft smile curving Potter's handsome face.

"What are you doing?" Draco asked stupidly.

"Watching you sleep," Potter replied.

"And?" Draco asked warily.

"It's nice. You don't insult me when you're sleeping," Potter said lightly.

Draco chuckled. "Obviously, you are not privy to my dreams. I assure you, there are insults aplenty."

"I'm in your dreams, then?" Potter asked teasingly, but Draco sensed on undercurrent of gravity that made him sit up in surprise. The movement seemed to startle the Auror and he hopped off the bed as if prodded. "You healed me, I take it?" Potter flexed his wand hand.

Draco nodded. "How do you feel?"

"Strange," Potter admitted. "My hands and feet are tingling. Like they've fallen asleep."

"Come here," Draco said imperiously, and shifted closer to Potter to sit on the edge of the bed. He held his hands out expectantly. Potter moved forward slowly and placed his hands in Draco's. He gripped the Auror's hands lightly and fought down his elated astonishment. A week ago, Draco would have said Potter would never take Draco's hands of his own volition.

Draco released one and cupped the other. He traced one finger over Potter's digits and across the palm to the wrist, keeping his eyes fixed on Harry's.

"How high is the discomfort level?" Draco asked. "On a scale of one to ten? Be honest."

Potter's face grew a delicate blush that made Draco's fingers tighten.

"Six," Potter admitted. Draco nearly winced. That high? It was probably much worse for the Auror to admit even that much.

Draco drew his fingers up Potter's forearm, tracing the veins to the soft flesh where Potter's arm bent at the elbow.

"Does it tingle here?" Draco asked clinically. Potter shook his head. "Tell me where it starts." Draco pulled his fingers back down over Potter's skin, marveling at the softness, and admiring the delicate blue veins beneath the skin.

"There," Potter said when Draco's fingers were a handspan from his wrist. "Although it's not so bad there. It's worse in the fingers."

"Toes, too?" Draco asked.

Potter nodded. "My socks are not too uncomfortable, but I could not quite bear to put my boots on."

Potter's eyes fixed on a point over Draco's shoulder, and the blush darkened. Draco's fingers were still pressed against Potter's wrist, and he felt the pulse, strong and steady. He released the Auror, not wanting to lose the unexpected intimacy Potter had allowed. To his credit, Potter did not move away, though he lowered his hands to his sides.

"I have a potion that might help," Draco said, and called a house-elf to fetch it, along with one that would improve Potter's circulation. When the creature returned, Potter obediently gulped both potions, another testament to how badly he suffered.

"Why did Teddy bring me here?"

"Teddy trusts me," Draco said simply.

Potter laughed. "Teddy worships the ground you walk on. He mentions your name at least six times a day."

Draco scowled. He needed to have a word with the damned brat. Their relationship was supposed to be secret. Draco shrugged.

"He thought I would have access to the exact spell used on you, and find the counter-curse faster than the do-gooders at the St. Mungo's. In that, he was probably right."

"Well, thanks. You saved my life."

"Good. Hopefully it cancels that life debt I owe you for pulling me out of… that fire.' Draco's gaze shifted away, and he realized it had been years since he had thought of Vince.

Amazingly, Potter reached out and put a hand on Draco's head. Draco looked at him in surprise. "I'm sorry I couldn't save Crabbe," Potter said softly.

Draco snorted, but lightly, so he wouldn't insult Potter's obvious sincerity. "You can't save everyone."

Potter nodded. "I know. But I can try."

With that, his hand left Draco's hair and he moved toward the door. Draco smiled softly, realizing that those few words summed up Potter completely. It was what had driven him to defeat Voldemort and save them all. It had kept him in the Auror Department when by all rights he should have been the Minister of Magic by now.

Draco nearly called the Auror back and asked him to stay a bit longer, but he simply raised his hand and watched Potter Disapparate. He still belonged to the Ginger Shrew, after all. The cheating, foolish, utterly stupid bint that did not deserve to breathe the same air as Potter.

Draco swore and went back to his own room. He wondered when the fuck his obsession with Potter had grown into something deeper and stronger.

Valentine 

Potter appeared on Valentine's Day, of all the ridiculous possible days. Draco merely raised a brow and bit back a snide question about why Potter wasn't spending the day with his lovely wife. After all, he preferred the Auror to be with him, and antagonizing him wasn't the wisest course.

He coaxed Potter into the library for tea, and waited patiently for Potter to divulge the reason for his visit.

"What can you tell me about Angelica Parkinson?" Potter finally asked. That question would not have been on the top ten thousand list of questions Draco expected Potter to ask.

"Pansy's daughter? The child of immaculate conception?" Draco laughed.

"What do you mean?"

"Pansy has never divulged the identity of the father. Not even to me."

Potter blinked at him so long that Draco finally translated the expression. He snorted. "You thought I was the father."

"The girl looks—"

"Quite a lot like me, yes. Pansy's idea of a little joke. I suspect she went to Sweden or Iceland and culled through the purebloods looking for someone with my physical characteristics. When that failed to produce a sufficiently blond child, she went to America and had the infant genetically altered. Apparently, they are obsessed with looks there, and have turned such magic into an art."

Potter looked appalled. "Why would she do that?"

"She was a bit upset when I married Martinique. She got over it, thankfully, but yes, Angelica looks more like me than like any of Pansy's other boy toys. Personality-wise, she's an identical copy of Pansy."

"That is a terrifying revelation. I was hoping—against all odds, mind you—that the girl would turn out to be sweet and kind."

"Why the sudden interest in a thirteen year old girl?"

"Albus is taking her to Hogsmeade this weekend."

It was Draco's turn to be appalled. "Albus? Your delicate, gentle son? She'll eviscerate him."

"Al is not delicate! He's much tougher than he looks. He has survived all these years with James as his brother."

Draco had never met James, so he had no frame of reference, except for glimpses of the rambunctious boy at King's Cross Station.

"What possessed Albus to pursue Angelica Parkinson?" Draco asked.

Harry sighed. "I've no idea. I got a letter from Lily and she commented on it, but added that Al did not act very smitten. I suppose girls notice that sort of thing."

"Scorpius will take care of Albus," Draco said and dismissed the matter. He knew Scorpius was dating a Ravenclaw girl, so it was possible Al was simply leveling the scales. But messing with a Parkinson was akin to playing with fire. That girl was Slytherin to the core.

Potter poked at his quince tart with his fork and Draco sensed the Auror had something else on his mind. He forced himself not to drum his fingertips on the table with impatience. Finally, the Auror stopped torturing his food and set aside the pronged implement.

"I brought you something," Potter blurted abruptly. "It's probably stupid, and you might not even want it, and I'm sorry it took me so long…"

"Perhaps you should stop babbling and just give it to me," Draco suggested dryly.

Potter nodded. He reached into his robes and pulled out a beautiful rosewood box. He slid it across the table to Draco, who suddenly knew what it contained. His breath caught in his throat.

Draco cracked open the box to behold his old hawthorn wand. He looked at it for a long moment, and then his fingers caressed it gently.

"I don't know why I never gave it back. But I didn't see much of you after the war, and it seemed wrong to just owl it back to you. I suppose some evil part of me wanted you to ask for it back…"

Draco lifted the wand out, barely hearing Potter's renewed flood of words. It felt strange in his hand, and seemed smaller than he remembered.

"Anyway," Potter finished, "It's yours. It's always been yours, and I wanted to thank you."

Draco took a deep breath and cast Lumos. The wand lit up, brilliantly and effortlessly. Draco had grown comfortable with his replacement wand, but there was something… elemental about his first wand. He had always felt somewhat hindered by using a different wand, even thought it had been similar in construction and design. Draco quickly Levitated every item on the table and sent them floating around the room haphazardly. He grinned at Potter, unable to stop himself. He felt almost giddy.

Potter rose from the table and backed away to avoid the flying objects. Draco quickly got up and went to stand in front of the Auror. Potter smiled at him and Draco enveloped him in a hard embrace. He chuckled into the Auror's neck and held the stiff body tightly.

"Thank you, Potter. And Happy Valentine's Day." He had an urge to lick the soft throat beneath his lips. He fought it, and was rewarded when Potter relaxed in his arms.

"Happy Valentine's Day, Malfoy," he said quietly. His arms rose to wrap gently around Draco's shoulders, touching so lightly it barely qualified as a hug. They stood that way for a long time, until Potter's discomfort drew him away.He smiled gently at Draco before he Disapparated. It was the best Valentine's Day Draco could remember.

Teddy Lupin married Victoire Weasley at Easter. It was a beautiful spring wedding, held at the Burrow. Draco attended, but spent the whole of the ceremony with Narcissa and Andromeda. He nodded cordially to Potter, who shepherded his evil wife from Weasley to Weasley. Draco thought Potter's smile looked more strained by the moment, and wished he could rescue the Auror and escape like Albus and Scorpius had done the instant the vows had been spoken and the music began.

Draco bid the happy couple good tidings, drank a simple toast, and Apparated home with the two boys. He spent the evening teaching Albus and Scorpius how to extract the creamy filling from Easter eggs, leaving only the chocolate shell. He had never tired of that prank at Hogwarts.

Draco had given Teddy a house as a wedding gift. Of course, the proud fool would never have accepted it, so Draco simply pretended he was selling it to the boy at a ridiculously low price. Draco would forward the monthly payments to an account set up for the Lupin's eventual children. The house bordered the Malfoy estate—in fact had been part of it—and was far too large for Teddy and his wife, but it had been a self-serving gift on Draco's part. Teddy would be close by in the event that Draco ever needed him. Narcissa also seemed quite taken with Victoire, so Draco hoped they would spend more time together. All in all, Draco was quite pleased with his gift.

Potter brought Albus to see Scorpius shortly after the summer break began. Teddy had sent Draco an owl, so Draco was prepared. He met the two Potters at the front gates, and quipped briefly with Albus before the boy raced off to the house to find Scorpius.

Draco put his hands on Potter's shoulders. "What is it?" he asked.

Potter reached up and took Draco's wrists, holding them as though to keep himself upright. The Auror's head dropped forward until his brow rested against Draco's. He seemed to draw comfort from the odd pose. Their breath mingled, but for once Draco did not feel a surge of desire. Potter was obviously in too much pain.

"It's Ginny," Potter said finally. "She's part of that goddamned pureblood club. She's been part of it for months. The same group that nearly killed me, Draco."

Potter's grip on his wrists was almost bruising. Draco tightened his hands on Potter's shoulders. He tried to speak, but the truth tangled in his throat the way a lie never would. He had to speak it, even if Potter hated him for it. He deserved the truth.

"I know," Draco said.

The dark head rose, and Potter's emerald eyes flared with an altogether new pain. He tried to pull away, but Draco held on. "Listen to me! You had to find out on your own! Coming from me—would you have believed it? Look past your anger and tell me the truth! Would you have believed me?"

"Yes!" Harry cried, still struggling in Draco's grasp, but he did not use his full strength. After a moment, he sagged. Draco did not let go, fearing an Auror tEric, but Potter's voice was quiet and he shook his head. "No. No, damn you, I wouldn't have believed it. I barely believe it now."

Draco released him, more relived that he could say, but he felt nearly overwhelmed by the truth he yet concealed. God, how could he add that blow to this? Maybe Ginny would come to her fucking senses. Maybe there was still a chance she could become the person Potter so desperately needed.

"Can we go inside?" Harry asked suddenly. "I need a drink."

Draco nodded. They walked side by side up the long drive to the Manor, with Draco wishing he could reach out and comfort the Auror, but knowing Harry would never allow it.

"She said she was just having fun," Harry said bitterly. "Having a few drinks, playing cards. She said she never indulged in any Muggle-baiting. Do you know, Draco? Do you know for sure?"

Draco wondered if the use of his first name was a calculated move on Harry's part, but fuck, if so it was working.

"She participated. I know for certain. The person I've been receiving information from to pass on to you informed me. I'm sorry." Draco called a house-elf and ordered tea, even though Harry could probably use something stronger. "What are you going to do?" he asked when the elf returned. Draco poured tea into hefty mugs—he has stopped using the delicate porcelain after Potter's first attempt at drinking from the tiny cups.

The Auror took it woodenly and sipped, staring blankly at a painting of Abraxas Malfoy slaying a dragon. The event had never actually happened, but the man had commissioned several similar heroic paintings. Draco had dreamed of performing such valiant deeds as a child, but now he knew that heroism did not come with a sword. It came with a scar and a pair of haunted green eyes.

"I don't know," Harry said finally. "It's surprising, but in a way, it's not. I don't even know my own wife any longer. Somewhere along the way, we seem to have lost touch with each other. I can't even look back and see when it began…"

"People change," Draco said quietly, joining Harry on the couch, but not sitting quite close enough to touch. "Some people grow, and some people regress."

"And some people do neither. We just follow the same bloody pattern of our lives day in and day out, and expect that nothing will ever change, while deluding ourselves that everything around us is fine." Harry's voice was bitter.

"Do you like being an Auror?" Draco asked.

The green eyes flicked to him, seeming surprised and almost amused at the random question.

"Yes. I mean, I did. I still do, of course, but…" A pale hand rose to tug through the black locks. "Well, I'm not twenty any more. I can't keep doing this much longer. There are days I'm so tired or sore it's all I can do to drag myself out of bed. It won't be long before I get someone killed. I nearly got myself killed."

Draco snorted. "According to Teddy, there were five of them. Even when you were twenty, I'm not sure you could have taken them all."

Harry seemed not to hear him. "I suppose I should take some bloody desk job. Maybe if I spend more time at home, Ginny will…"

Draco laughed. He could not help himself. Harry glared at him with an expression so endearingly familiar that Draco laughed again.

"Potter, you could no more take a desk job than a Muggle child could cast a Lumos with a willow branch. You would be bored out of your bloody mind in a week. As for your relationship with the Ginger Shrew, is that really what you want?"

"Of course it's what I want. I want things to be back to what they were. Everything was so good when we were first married. I just wish I knew what happened to us. We can't even have a civil conversation without it deteriorating into a battle."

Draco set his cup down and slid over to put his arm around the Auror. Harry stiffened and Draco sighed in annoyance. "Relax, Potter, I'm not going to ravish you."

Harry relaxed with obvious effort, and then fairly collapsed against Draco's shoulder with a sigh. The capitulation amazed Draco for only a moment. He laid his face against Potter's hair and added, "Unless you want me to."

Harry made a snorting noise and tipped his head back to look at Draco, who felt the air seize up in his lungs. Merlin, Harry was in his arms, looking at him with those spectacular eyes, close enough that their breath merged. Draco's arm tightened reflexively.

"What would you do, if you were me?" Harry asked.

_I'd take you straight to bed and forget all about that stupid bint I married_, Draco wanted to reply. Harry's mouth was slightly parted, practically begging Draco to kiss him. Draco lowered his head, feeling desire licking through him like wildfire. Impossibly thick lashes fluttered closed over verdant eyes, as if Potter were expecting to be kissed. Draco paused, hauling hard at the reins of his lust. He knew a very Slytherin mind lurked beneath Potter's Gryffindor exterior. This could be a fucking _test_.

Draco's lips abruptly shifted their trajectory, and he placed a brotherly kiss on Harry's forehead. The black hair was soft as silk against his cheek.

"I'm not you, Potter. I'm about as far from you as it's possible to get."

Harry relaxed even further, and Draco breathed a mental sigh of relief. If it had been a test, Draco had apparently passed.

"Actually, you're about as _close_ to me as it's possible to get."

Draco nearly choked in order to hold back suggestions about ways to get far, far closer.

"And you didn't answer my question," Potter continued.

"My rules don't apply to your situation, Potter," Draco managed. "Martinique and I slept together long enough to produce Scorpius. After that, we were both free to seek our own interests. We were never 'in love' the way you and the Weaselette were."

Potter moved his head a bit so he could meet Draco's eyes once more.

"So, you've never been in love?"

"Once," Draco admitted after a long pause.

"Me, too," Potter replied and dropped his head back to Draco's shoulder. Draco's fingers lightly caressed Potter's arm. "I should go home."

"You can stay the night if you'd like."

Potter sighed. "Best not. But thanks for the offer."

Even so, he stayed where he was for a long time before Apparating home.


	5. Chapter 5

Morning Visits 

Draco was awakened by a house-elf. He snatched his dressing gown immediately, knowing they would only dare awaken him in the event of an emergency.

"Master Scorpius is being in the library fireplace, Master Draco."

The elf bore a large candelabrum to light his way, negating the need to light a Lumos. Draco followed the elf down stairs quickly, wondering what would drive his son to firecall in the middle of the night.

"Father, I'm sorry to wake you," Scorpius said when Draco dropped to his knees before his son's fiery visage.

"What's wrong?" Draco asked.

"Albus was attacked—don't worry, Madam Pomfrey healed him, but the noble prat won't tell me who did it. He's afraid I'll get in trouble for hexing them. I'm sure McGonagall will punish them, possibly even expel them, but that's simply not good enough."

Draco sat back on his heels, knowing his son was right. Albus was under Malfoy protection. He almost asked if Harry knew about the attack, but realized they would have notified the Auror immediately.

"All right, the hex you want is in the special book I gave you—the one that will get you tossed out of Hogwarts should they discover it. It's called Morir Tergum. The effects will not become apparent for seven days, by which time they'll have no chance of locating the caster. Only use it if you can do so without detection."

"I understand, Father. We'll be careful."

"We?" Draco asked. Another face appeared in the fire next to Scorpius.

"Hello, Mr. Malfoy," said James Potter. "Sorry to bother you, sir, but there were three of them, and… he's my brother."

Draco sighed. "Very well, but be aware that if you two are caught, your father will use my bollocks to decorate his broom. I'd prefer to keep them where they are."

"We won't get caught," James said grimly, sounding so much like Harry that Draco nearly smiled.

"Bye, Father," said Scorpius. The flames flickered and the boys disappeared. Draco got to his feet and sighed, vaguely missing the intrigue of Hogwarts and his days of prowling the castle trying to catch Harry Potter in some act of rule breaking.

It was nearly three o' clock in the morning. He wondered if it was too early to wake Potter, and decided to owl the Auror instead of Firecalling. He was certain the Ginger Shrew would have something to say about being awakened at this hour. Potter had, predictably, decided to try and work things out with his wife, who had agreed to quit the pureblood club.

Draco had to wonder if Blaise would give up so easily. He doubted it.

Potter popped in less than an hour later.

"I thought Malfoys did not rise before noon," he said with mock amazement.

"Sometimes Malfoys do not go to bed until dawn," Draco replied.

Potter grinned. "That would explain it." He sobered. "You heard about Al?"

Draco nodded. "Scorpius told me. Do you know what prompted it?"

Harry shook his head. "Al refused to say, and he insisted it was unnecessary for me to visit. He has identified the boys, but refused to give up a Pensieve memory, so we may never know what really happened." The Auror sat heavily on the sofa and ran a hand through his hair. "It's hard to watch them grow up, and know that you can't always protect them."

"Albus is not alone, Harry."

"I know, he's got Scorpius. And James, and Lily, and Rose and Hugo." Potter laughed. "That's a formidable group in itself."

"The wonder is that the boys were foolish enough to take on Albus, knowing that."

"Lily said Albus had been spending a lot of time alone. She thinks he had a fight with Scorpius."

Judging by his son's determination to punish the offenders, Draco assumed that possibility was no longer an option. "It happens. I seem to remember you having a tiff with your favorite Weasel at least once."

Harry grinned. "The Tri-Wizard Tournament. Ron was certain I had put my name in and then lied to him about it."

"The Weasel was none to bright."

"He apologized."

"Sometimes apologies are not enough, Potter." That sentiment encompassed far too many past grievances, and they both silently pondered them for a while. Harry stood up finally.

"I should get to the office and get an early start on things."

Draco rose, wondering what he could say to get Potter to stay longer, and cursing himself for the stupid sentiment. He stood close enough to touch with a simple lean as Potter reached for the jar of Floo powder.

"You have something in your hair," Draco murmured and slid a hand into the black curls, brushing as much of Potter's neck and scalp as he could manage under the guise of innocent fuzz-removal. It was not enough. His fingers moved from the back of Harry's head to the side of his neck, and then reached up to cup Potter's jaw. He tipped Harry's head back and took the Gryffindor's lips in a searching kiss. Merlin, he had waited so incredibly long…

Harry accepted the kiss far longer than Draco had expected. Was he simply curious? Or was there something more? Draco worked his tongue gently between Harry's lips. It stroked over Potter's, driving a violent spike of desire into Draco's groin. Fuck, he needed—

Harry shoved him away and strode several brisk paces across the room, breathing heavily. The green eyes flashed with anger. And denial? Draco dared to hope.

"Are you completely bent?" Harry demanded.

Draco seated himself gracefully in a nearby chair and crossed an ankle over his knee. He watched Harry pace appreciatively. One little kiss certainly made the Gryffindor agitated.

"Not completely, no," Draco admitted. "I'm more like a piece of ash. Generally straight, but I can be bent under the proper circumstances."

Harry gaped at him, and then started to laugh. "A piece of ash," he repeated and laughed until he had to sit on the couch or risk falling. It was a sound of genuine amusement that nearly made the corners of Draco's lips turn up in response, except that Malfoys did not take to being laughed at.

"That was meant to be poetic and profound," Draco said dryly.

"It failed miserably, but probably through no fault of yours," Harry admitted, still chuckling as he wiped tears from the corner of his eyes. "You see, my partner is American. When he goes looking for female companionship, he says he is 'going to find a piece of ass.'" Harry delivered it with a horrible American accent, and then chuckled again. "It just sounded so similar. I'm sorry, I couldn't help it."

Draco's eyes narrowed at the thought of Harry's American partner, a man with whom Harry shared so much of his life. "I'll be a piece of ash for you, Harry," he said quietly. The Gryffindor's laugh stopped as if choked out of him. Harry bolted to his feet and glared at Draco.

"Why do you fucking do that?" he snapped. "You're howling mad, you know?"

Draco sat back in his chair with a sigh. He scowled. "Well, I'd rather be ash than walnut—board straight and unyielding. Rigidity can lead to breakage, you know."

Harry tugged a hand through his black locks and Draco recalled the feel of it against his fingers for a moment. Harry grinned wryly.

"Can you stop the wood analogies, please? I'd rather not get into the properties of hemlock and aspen and pine."

Draco snorted.

Harry continued, "I'm just going to pretend you did not actually pounce on me. You're likely very tired, if you've been up all night. I'll just go to work now, and I'll see you later." He took a handful of Floo powder.

"No kiss goodbye?" Draco asked.

Harry laughed and looked at him almost fondly. "You're completely mental. I'll see you later."

Breakdown 

Draco was in his study, dictating a letter to the Ministry with the aid of a Quick-quotes Quill, when Harry Potter Apparated into the room. Draco took in the wild expression, disheveled clothing, and clenched fists for only an instant before striding forward.

"Draco." Potter's voice was torn and barely audible. Draco enfolded the Auror in a tight embrace. Potter's body trembled unbelievably; he clutched at Draco and his wand dropped to the carpet. A sob tore from his throat. Draco pulled back to look in Harry's face as a cold shard of dread pierced him.

"They killed… oh god, Draco, they killed him."

Tears welled in the stricken green eyes and Draco fought to speak. Albus? _Scorpius_?

"Eric," Harry said. "Eric is dead. I couldn't save him."

Draco's relief was almost tangible, so much so that for the space of several moments he could not remember anyone named Eric. Another shudder shook Potter's frame and Draco recalled the Auror's American partner.

Harry became a near dead weight, so Draco allowed his knees to bend. They sank to the floor with Draco cushioning them carefully. Harry sobbed in earnest and clung to him like a heartbroken child. Draco rubbed his back gently and crooned into Potter's hair, giving him permission to lose control.

The storm did not last long. Harry pulled away, rubbing his eyes and sniffling until Draco produced a handkerchief. Harry blew his nose loudly.

"Sorry," he said in a barely audible tone, not meeting Draco's eyes. "I didn't mean to—"

Draco dragged him back into an embrace and squeezed lightly. "Stop it. Come sit down. I'll get you a drink."

Harry allowed Draco to maneuver him to a sofa. Rather than leave him alone, Draco called a house-elf to fetch a drink for the Auror. He kept his arm around Harry, who leaned into him without protest.

"It was the goddamned pureblood club. They want _me_, Draco. I've known it for a while now. I was lucky they don't really know what they're doing, and I've been training for this shit since I was fifteen years old."

The house-elf popped back in with a steaming mug of brandy laced with cream and spices, one of Narcissa's favorite blends. Harry took it in both hands and gulped half of it. He wrapped his hands around the mug and rested it on his thigh.

"It seemed like a routine call. There has been a rash of exploding cars—the Muggles blame it on terrorist groups. Hell, some of them really were terrorist groups. When the call came today, we got there as soon as we could. One Muggle was badly wounded, lying in the street bleeding and begging for help." Harry drank again. His knuckles were white. Draco tightened his grip and stroked Harry's arm lightly.

"It was a trap. We have a procedure—had a procedure. Eric would take the wounded to St. Mungo's and then Apparate back. The hospital has a special triage ward set up so we can do it as quickly as possible."

Harry drew a ragged breath.

"They must have known. They had to have known that we would take the injured man to safety, but they did not know that Eric always did the Apparating. I always stayed behind to face any danger. We never told anyone how we operated; it was just what we did."

Harry took a drink again and almost choked. Draco took the mug from him gently and set it aside.

"As soon as Eric touched the Muggle, they both… both… _exploded_."

Draco wrapped both arms around Harry and tucked the Auror's head under his chin. Harry's breathing hitched and then steadied.

"It was like a Muggle bomb, likely triggered by a Proximity Spell. Hermione and her crew are studying it… God, Draco." Harry's hand gripped Draco's arm tightly. "Ginny is still involved. I know it. I don't have proof yet, but the signs are there. She says she's going to visit friends… I don't trust her any more." He sounded so lost that Draco wanted to lock him away and shield him from further pain.

"I'm sorry," Draco said, knowing the words were inadequate.

Harry raised his head and looked straight into his eyes for only a moment before leaning forward and planting his lips on Draco's.

The shock lasted only until Harry's tongue slipped past Draco's lips and the kiss deepened. Harry clung to him, pressing him back into the sofa. His mouth devoured Draco's with a sweet urgency that was as bewildering as it was touching. Draco allowed Harry to plunder his mouth, more than content to let the Auror lead. He only feared it wouldn't last.

Harry pulled away, but spoke against Draco's lips. "I know you want me. I don't pretend to know why, but you do, so fucking take me. Please, god, help me stop thinking about this. I keep replaying every goddamn 'if only' scenario, but none of them will bring Eric back." His fists clenched in Draco's robes and his lips slid over his cheek to rest near Draco's ear. "Please, Draco, make it stop, if only for a while."

Draco swallowed hard. "Okay." He enfolded Harry in a tight hug and said, "Let's go upstairs."

In Draco's room, Harry stood woodenly as Draco silently undressed him, peeling off robes, shoes, shirt, and trousers. The Auror swayed for a moment and Draco held him, allowing his hands to slide over Harry's tense shoulders and back.

"Merlin, you're beautiful, Harry."

The Auror leaned in for another kiss, and Draco kissed him and then eased him onto the bed. His eyes slid over Harry's lean body, erasing the images he had dreamed and replacing them with reality. Harry had more hair on his chest than Draco had expected, dark curls that swirled in a compact pattern before trailing in a fine line down the center of his abdomen. Harry had a long white scar over his ribcage and another on his chest near his right nipple. A small mole rested near his navel, and Draco knelt on the bed and bent to kiss it gently, earning a gasp from Harry. The black boxers he wore bulged slightly, welcome proof that the Auror was not immune to Draco's charms.

Draco leaned back and propped his head up to look at Harry. He ran his other hand over Harry's ribs, but did not move other than that. He trailed his fingers through the dark hair and found it softer than anticipated. Draco drew his name on Harry's chest with infinite slowness, making a flourish after the O as was his wont.

"What are you doing?" Harry asked, sounding bemused.

"Waiting."

Harry yawned suddenly, and his eyelids dropped closed momentarily. "Waiting for what?" he asked sleepily.

Draco smiled and trailed his hand over Harry's chest, erasing his imaginary name. He drew a circle around one nipple before sliding his fingers over Harry's slim throat to cup the strong jaw. Draco's thumb traced Harry lower lip, which trembled slightly. The green eyes watched him in confusion, and then sharpened.

"You drugged me."

Draco chuckled and nodded. "If you think I'm wicked enough to take advantage of you in this state, however tempting that might be, you might want to revise your low opinion." He moved his hand into the thick hair on Harry's head and pulled him closer.

"Damn you, Malfoy."

Draco cradled the dark head on his chest and tucked his chin into the soft thatch. "Rest now. I'll stay here with you."

Harry sighed heavily and relaxed. He ungracefully wrapped his arms around Draco. He mumbled something, but within moments his breathing became deep and even.

Draco held the sleeping hero and silently vowed to do whatever it took to protect him, beginning with a chat with Blaise Zabini.

Awareness of a warm body next to his brought Draco back from the realm of dreams. He much preferred reality to any dream, as long as Harry Potter was nestled in his arms. Harry's hair was crushed beneath Draco's chin, and he grinned when he envisioned how the Auror's hair would look when he woke.

Draco's arm was clapped to Harry's chest and their hands touched. Draco wanted to link their fingers, but refrained from moving so he would not wake the Auror. It was still dark, pre-dawn judging by the purplish light he glimpsed through the curtains. He thought about Harry's kisses. Merlin, the intensity had been all he had hoped for, and more. The mere thought of it stirred his blood and his body responded accordingly.

Harry must have felt the renewal of Draco's desire, because he moved. Surprisingly, he did not pull away, but only turned over to face Draco. The green eyes were enigmatic. Draco smiled gently and Harry reached up to put his palm against Draco's cheek.

"Thank you," Harry said. Draco took the hand in his and moved it to his lips so he could press a kiss into Harry's palm.

"I don't suppose you want to continue where you left off last night?" Draco did not bother to suppress the hopeful lilt in his voice.

Potter's cheeks tinted prettily. "Best not."

Draco grimaced, but he had known the Auror would never shag him in his right mind, and overcome with grief was definitely not a right mind.

"I was stupid last night," Harry admitted.

Draco tried to mask the hurt and drew back, finding it stupidly hard to take the sting of Potter's words. Harry caught Draco's hair, an action that no one alive would get away with except _him_. Draco drew in an outraged breath, but Harry's hand slid to the back of his neck and pulled him closer.

"_Not_ because of you," Harry said firmly. "You've been brilliant through all of this—through everything. More than brilliant, because I never would have thought to act the way I did last night…" The Auror flushed, but gamely continued. "I won't pretend it didn't happen and I won't pretend I didn't want you. You… god, I can't believe I'm admitting this." Harry shut his eyes and his brow wrinkled as if he were in pain. "Fuck it. I do find you attractive and I can't stop thinking about you, but I can't take such a step and still live with myself. Not until I know for sure…" Draco waited expectantly, but Harry shook his head, probably already regretting his admission.

Draco slid closer until their breath mingled. "Let's revisit _attractive_ and _until_."

Harry grinned wryly. "I should think the attraction would be obvious after last night, and you certainly don't need encouragement." He sighed heavily and Draco could almost see the weight pressing in on the Auror once more. "I have to go to America and tell Eric's family. I met them a few times; it won't be any easier coming from me, but at least they will hear it from someone that cared about him."

Draco allowed his hand to slide over Harry's back. "Do you want me to come with you?"

Harry's eyes closed, and then he met Draco's gaze again. "That means more to me than you can imagine, but I'll be all right. I'll take Teddy along. And then I'll be back for revenge against the bastards that killed Eric."

He pulled away and stood up, once more the strong, determined Auror. Draco nearly missed the broken Harry, but he comforted himself with the knowledge that _he_ had been the one Potter had come to for solace.

"Potter? Be careful," Draco said seriously.

"I will."

**Blaise Zabini**

Draco met with Blaise in a quaint but overpriced café that had popped up in Diagon Alley. The food was tolerable, but it was mainly frequented due to the privacy factor. All of the booths had high walls and Silencing Charms cast upon them, making it a favored meeting place for lovers, or those with delicate business to conduct.

Blaise slipped into the seat across from Draco, late as usual. His white smile was gorgeous. Draco used the memory of Harry to stifle his appreciation of Zabini's charm. Draco was somewhat conflicted when it came to Blaise. He was nearly grateful to the git for luring Harry's bride to bed and giving Potter an excuse to leaver her—if the Auror ever clued in to their relationship. On the other hand, Blaise's action were unwittingly hurting Harry—to the point of nearly getting him killed, and that needed to stop.

However, if Blaise determined that Draco was trying to protect Harry, the bastard would help the ringleader destroy the Auror out of sheer spite. Blaise could be like an angry snake if he felt pressured. He reached across the table and clasped both of Draco's hands warmly.

"Draco, dare I hope you called me here to request my talents in your bed again?"

"Why? Has your tendency to sleep with everything that walks taken a dramatic turn?"

Blaise pouted, an expression that should have made him look feminine, instead gave his features a sultry cast. The cretin knew it, too.

_Harry, Harry, Harry_, Draco thought and called up an image of the Auror. He remembered Potter touching his jaw sweetly and admitting his attraction. It steadied Draco immediately.

"You wound me, Draco," Blaise said. "I am a changed man."

"You have certainly shagged Potter's wife for quite a lot longer than anyone expected, but that does not mean you aren't stirring the cauldron with a dozen others on the side."

Blaise's dark eyes shuttered. "You know about that?"

"Do you take me for an idiot?" Draco snapped.

"I'll take you any way I can get you, Draco," Blaise said huskily and the teasing light returned to his eyes. His fingertips caressed Draco's hands. "Come back to my place?"

"So, you're not serious about the Weaselette, then?"

"Jealous?" Blaise asked, but he sat back and flagged a server with a flick of his wrist. He ordered a bottle of wine. When the waiter departed, Blaise cocked a brow at Draco. "Did you only call me here to ask about her?"

Draco nodded curtly.

"Why? Are the rumors true that Potter has been to the Manor several times? Are you falling for him?"

Luckily, Draco had expected Blaise's sharp question. Zabini always went for the jugular when he felt threatened. Draco's face betrayed nothing as he shrugged.

"Our sons are friends. Potter drops Albus off to amuse Scorpius. There is no love lost between us, as you should recall from our past history—it's you I'm concerned with."

Blaise's surprise did not seem feigned. "Me?" He blinked for a moment and then laughed aloud. The waiter returned with the bottle and two glasses, which he quickly poured before departing once more. Blaise took a sip and looked speculatively at Draco. "You've never been concerned with me before, Draco."

Draco's eyes flashed. "Just because you're an insensitive, selfish bastard that cannot commit to anyone or anything does not mean I don't care about you. If you insist on maintaining this thing with Potter's wife, you are going to be in serious danger." Draco's voice rang and he realized he was sincere. He really did care about Blaise, even if he dared not ever become involved with him again.

"From Potter?" Blaise snorted.

"Actually, from that ridiculous club you're involved with."

"The one you refuse to join."

"I've never thought of Muggle-baiting as a sport, even in my semi-Death Eater days. And neither did you."

"Things change," Blaise said mildly.

"Are you saying you've joined in that idiotic behavior?" Draco sat forward. "You heard about Potter's partner, did you not?"

"I read the paper."

"Potter will be out for blood. He'll stop at nothing to crush your little group." Draco chanced a lure. "Do you know who's in charge?"

"I might have an idea."

"Then you must know their time is limited."

Blaise laughed and leaned forward again. "Merlin, Draco, don't be so melodramatic. You act like Potter is all-powerful."

"He destroyed the Dark Lord, Blaise. I'd say that qualifies him as pretty fucking powerful."

"He got lucky. Apparently Potter actually died during the final battle. I heard it directly from his wife. Some magic of Dumbledore's brought him back. His Gryffindor luck won't hold out forever."

"You condone these attempts on Potter's life?" Draco's tone was dry and tinged with amusement.

Blaise smirked. "If Potter met with an unfortunate accident, then the beauteous Ginny would be all mine, wouldn't she?"

"Surely you're not in love with her?"

Blaise did not reply and toyed with the stem of his wineglass for a moment. He leaned forward with a wicked glint in his eye and took Draco's hands again. "Would you be upset if I was, Draco?" His tone was so artfully hopeful that Draco had to smile. The git had not lost any of his charm, that was certain. Blaise took his grin as encouragement and moved around the table to slide in next to Draco.

Blaise's dark hand cupped Draco's chin and drew him into a searching kiss. The talented lips and tongue sought to pull a response from Draco, but he miraculously felt nothing. Draco was very nearly alarmed by the knowledge that Potter's desperate assault had apparently ruined him for all other men. Blaise redoubled his effort, twisting his hands in Draco's hair.

It was at that moment that Ginny Potter approached their table. Draco caught sight of her out of the corner of his eye and pulled away from Blaise. He gave the Ginger Shrew a glare and then watched Blaise carefully.

Blaise gave her a bright smile, looking in no wise guilty. Draco was not certain Blaise had ever felt that particular emotion.

"Mrs. Potter," Blaise said formally. "How nice to see you." She turned and hurried out without a word. Blaise had not taken his hand from Draco's hair and he caressed roughly with his nails, a movement that had once made Draco purr.

"Shouldn't you rush after her?" Draco asked, fighting the effects of Blaise's practiced touch.

"No need," Blaise said with a predatory smile. "Now where were we?" He leaned in close, but Draco blocked Zabini's lips with a hand.

"We were about to tell you to piss off, Blaise. Just consider ending your association with the pureblood club, all right? It's doomed. And if you are half as intelligent as you think you are, you'll also stop shagging Potter's wife." Draco sipped his wine and ignored the way Blaise's fingers had slipped beneath his collar and drew over his skin. "Then again, you've never been terribly smart when your prick is involved."

"You still haven't forgiven me for cheating on you?" Blaise asked. He did not bother to pout and sounded almost regretful.

"Ancient history. I don't hold grudges."

Blaise threw back his head and laughed, a rich sound that would have drawn attention if not for the Silencing Charm.

"Draco, your grudges are legend. You've held one against Potter since you were eleven years old."

"Potter is different," Draco snapped.

Blaise withdrew his hand. "All right, then. I'll not be drawn into another argument about Potter. If you have no intention of sleeping with me, I'll leave you to sulk over your not-grudge."

"I have no intention of sleeping with you."

Blaise sighed and downed the rest of his wine. "Fine. I shall settle for the forbidden ginger fruit if she's not too hacked off with me." Blaise stood, but his dark eyes sparkled. Draco knew trying to save Blaise was a lost cause. He loved a challenge. Zabini blew him a saucy kiss and strode out, presumably to track down and woo back Harry's annoyed wife. Draco sighed and lingered over his wine, sulking over his grudge that had become a crush.

**Dessert**

Draco's crush appeared at Malfoy Manor that night. Draco was in the dining room enjoying his dessert, even though his mother had forgone the confections and retired to her rooms. A house-elf announced Harry, who looked so out of place Draco half-expected him to scuff his foot on the carpet.

"Do come in, Potter," Draco said lightly. "Have some tiramisu—I can't vouch for it, as it's not my favorite, but the mousse is quite good. I am not quite certain what the gelatinous red concoction is called, but it is very tasty. I've eaten most of it."

Harry sat down across from him and actually smiled. "Nearly every time I come here, you are eating sweets. The cane growers should send you gifts."

"No need. I own a plantation and sugar mill in the Caribbean. You should come tour it with me some day."

Potter ignored that, as Draco expected, but he did pick up a spoon and try the red confection. He shut his eyes for a moment and Draco savagely wished he had been the one to bring that expression of bliss to the Auror's face. He set down his utensils; his appetite for food was gone.

"Ginny is cheating on me," Harry said tonelessly once he had swallowed the dessert. Draco blinked at him in surprise. Potter nodded and looked at his reflection in the spoon—upside down on the concave side. "She came home in tears today and confessed all. Apparently she's been having an affair with Blaise Zabini for months."

Harry flipped the spoon around and gazed at the back of the silver as though it held the secrets of the universe. Harry's lack of emotion was alarming.

"Harry…" he said, but Potter set down the spoon and got to his feet. He started to pace.

"All this time I thought it was me. I thought if I tried harder, everything would go back to normal. I mean, yes, I worked a lot, but it was after the trouble started, when we could not be in the same room together without an argument brewing." The Auror pulled a hand through his hair, looking bereft. Draco had played the scene out in his mind a dozen times—heartbroken Harry discovering his wife's infidelity and seeking solace in Draco's arms. The reality was nothing like Draco's visions. His heart hurt seeing Harry's pain clenched around him like a smothering shroud. Draco stood, itching to touch the Auror, who barked a humorless laugh.

"Who am I fucking kidding? It is my fault. I watched Ginny slipping away and I did nothing to stop it. She seemed to want her space, her freedom—her own life."

Draco rounded the table. "Stop it, Harry. You are not responsible for her falling into bed with Blaise Zabini. That was her decision."

Harry made a bitter sound. "Allegedly, Zabini is irresistible." He stopped pacing and folded his arms around himself as if warding off a chill. "Ginny sobbed to me that she broke it off with him because she caught him with someone else. He was cheating on her, isn't that ironic?" Harry paused. "Interestingly, the one she caught him with… was you."

Harry's piercing gaze met Draco's for the first time and he winced. That was unexpected, as was the remorse generated by Harry's tone of accusation.

"Tell me, Malfoy, is Zabini really that good, or do you just try to fuck everyone you meet?" Draco swallowed, shocked by the anger in Harry's voice. The Auror continued, "Your attempts to get into my pants was just a stupid game to you, wasn't it? You goddamn Slytherin's are all the same—you don't care who you hurt."

Draco bit back a furious retort and forced himself to reply in an even tone.

"I am nothing like Blaise, Potter," he snapped. "And despite the fact that it is none of your business, I am not sleeping with him, unlike your _wife_, who most assuredly is."

Harry flinched and Draco instantly regretted firing that salvo. He sighed and wondered why things always degenerated into rage between them. Draco pressed his fingers into suddenly aching temples.

"What do you want, Potter?" Draco asked harshly. "Not comfort, apparently, since you still don't seem to think very much of me."

Harry looked away and nodded. He appeared even more bereft than he had when he had arrived. The space between them was barely six paces, but it felt as deep and impassable as an ocean. Draco clenched his fists and waited for Harry to Disapparate so he could drink himself into a state of maudlin depression.

Instead of leaving, Harry spoke again. He stared fixedly at the logs stacked neatly in the fireplace as if expecting them to spontaneously ignite. "The thing is, I was not exactly surprised when Ginny told me. I've known for quite some time that she was still involved with the pureblood club. I even suspected she was having an affair, since we haven't had sex in over six months." Harry did not bother to conceal his bitterness with that statement and he flushed slightly at the admission. He stopped hugging himself and tugged at his hair again. He sighed heavily. "At any rate, I was not surprised. It felt more like puzzle pieces locking into place. I was actually relieved to finally learn the truth."

Draco crossed his arms, reluctantly interested in Potter's ongoing confession.

"I wanted to hunt Zabini down and kill him, of course. With my bare hands, if necessary. Oddly, though, it was not because of his affair with Ginny." Harry looked directly at Draco; his emerald eyes were full of torment. "I wanted to kill him, not for touching my wife, Draco, but for touching _you_. How utterly fucked up is that?"

Draco crossed the space between them, not quite certain he had heard correctly. He wondered how so few words could dissipate an ocean. Draco took Harry in his arms, scarcely able to breathe. The Auror was stiff as a board, obviously at war with his revelation. Draco held on anyway, unwilling to let Harry go now or ever. "It was just a kiss, Harry. Blaise was being an arse, trying to provoke me. It failed. The only one I want is you." Draco slid a hand tentatively up Harry's spine, hoping for a thaw.

"You said something to me once," Harry said, and his voice muted as he spoke over Draco's shoulder. "I thought I dreamed it at the time, but I've wondered. It was right after you cured me of the stone spell."

"What did I say?" Draco asked into his hair while breathing the scent of it.

"You said you loved me."

It was Draco's turn to go rigid. He had admitted that? The ground nearly fell away from him for a moment.

Harry sighed and nodded. "I thought I was hallucinating. I should have known…"

"I meant it," Draco said. He drew back so he could see Harry's face. He met the green eyes soberly. He cupped Harry's cheek gently. "It's true."

A gorgeous blush lit the Auror's face, making Draco fight the urge to kiss him.

"Why?" The question was so typically Potter that Draco had to laugh.

"If you have a lifetime, I'll show you," Draco said and pitched his voice to its huskiest timbre. He leaned forward then and pressed his lips to Harry's, feather-lightly. "I love you, Harry." He kissed the Auror more insistently. "I love your lips, your eyes, and your impossible hair." The third kiss coaxed at Harry's lips, begging him to respond. "I love your foolish Gryffindor tendencies, and your obsessive need to do the right thing. I love the way you walk and the way you taste—"

Draco was not sure what caused the break, but suddenly Harry's arms were around Draco and his mouth was opening, welcoming Draco's kisses. It was like the night Harry's partner was killed, but better because the Auror was not weighed down with grief and driven by guilt.

The intensity, though—fuck, that was still there. Draco thought he might crack from the force of it as Harry strove to devour him. Their tongues met, fought, relented, and settled into a gentle exploration. Harry's hands were everywhere, feeling Draco's arms, ribs, and back before tucking into his hair and teasing the soft patches behind Draco's ears with his thumbs.

Draco wondered if it was possible to die of need. He kept his hands clenched in the Auror's hair, to keep from tearing the clothes from Harry's body. Their wild kiss broke, although they did not go far, panting heavily against each other's lips.

"God, Draco," Harry whispered. "I've never felt—nothing has ever been… like that."

"Good," Draco said, even though he could scarcely breathe. "It's barely the beginning, Harry. There is so much more to come."

Harry stepped back, utilizing willpower Draco could not have dredged up if his life depended on it. "I can't, Draco. I want to, god how I want to—"

Draco's hands were still in the black hair and he held tightly, not letting go, fuck no, not now. Harry winced.

"Please, Harry, just let me…" Draco untangled one hand and placed it boldly on Harry's erection, which was thankfully in the same state as Draco's. Harry gasped and Draco stroked. "Merlin, Harry, just let me touch you."

The Auror nodded once and Draco put both hands on Potter's waistband, striving for calm to keep his fingers from trembling. He felt like an untried schoolboy touching his crush for the first time, but this was _Harry Potter_, for fuck's sake, and Draco had never been in love before.

Harry's cock sprang free and Draco looked at it with something akin to awe. He touched it lightly, drawing his fingers over the head. It jumped in his hand and he felt wetness slick his pads. Draco quelled the urge—barely—to lick Harry's precome from his fingers, and settled for turning the Auror and pressing him back onto the dining room table. He shoved aside dishes, desserts, and utensils with a loud clatter, not caring how many hit the floor.

Draco hovered over Harry for a moment and drank in the sight of him sprawled there—hair disheveled, lips red from Draco's kisses, clothing rumpled and partly removed, cock standing at attention, and those impossibly green eyes watching him. Draco swallowed with emotion and knew he would never eat another meal in this room without envisioning Harry laid out like a dessert buffet. He bent down to press his lips to Harry's beautiful erection.

"Draco. Come here." The words caused Draco's head to snap up. Where the hell had the Auror been hiding _that_ voice? One hand was lifted in supplication and Draco obligingly climbed onto the table, thankful that the slab of walnut was extremely broad as well as massively sturdy.

He bent and kissed Harry again, half straddling him in a kneeling position. The Auror's hand tugged at Draco's waistband.

"You too," Harry said. Draco held his breath as Harry's hands worked at the material until he released Draco's cock. Harry's hand closed around it gently and Draco shut his eyes. Harry explored it from length to tip and his touch was better than any dream Draco could have conjured.

"It's nice," Harry said and Draco opened his eyes to meet Harry's. He nearly laughed aloud in delight at the sweet comment.

"Thanks. Yours is, too." To prove it, Draco wrapped his hand around Harry's cock again. Their hands bumped together as their strokes grew faster and more determined. Their kisses became shorter and the gasping pauses longer until Harry kissed Draco hard enough to draw blood. The Auror arched beneath him, stifled a cry, and came.

Even though Harry's hand stopped moving, his release was enough to trigger Draco's orgasm. He collapsed on Harry and his raw lips burned where they touched the sweaty black curls. The Auror's arms wrapped around Draco and held him tightly as his breath panted in Draco's ear.

After awhile, Harry shifted slightly and Draco assumed he was crushing the Auror's spine into the hard wood. He rolled over and cast a quick Cleaning Charm. Harry tried to straighten his clothing, but Draco brushed his hands aside and did it for him. He ran his fingers over Harry's smooth skin, uncertain when he would have another opportunity. He fastened his own clothing and levered off the table before offering Harry a hand.

Draco pulled him off the table and into a fierce embrace.

"Are you going to go all regretful Gryffindor on me?" Draco asked. Harry sighed and returned the gesture, squeezing Draco almost painfully.

"No. I don't regret that at all. You're… amazing."

"But?" Draco prodded, sensing the word's omission.

"But I don't know if I can do this again. I'm still married and I'm… well, I'm not certain what I feel right now. So much has happened in just a few weeks."

Draco bit down on a sharp retort. He had already received more from Harry than he had expected. Giving in to impatience now would only satisfy for the moment.

"What will you do?" he asked instead. He stepped back and cupped Harry's face with both hands.

"Go home and talk to Ginny. Try and figure this mess out." The Auror's hands lightly gripped Draco's waist.

"Well, if you should come to your senses, you are welcome here. I'll give you your own wing. Or the chambers next to mine. Or _my_ chambers," Draco said suggestively.

Harry's hands tightened and he grinned. "You never give up, do you?"

"I'll never give up on you, Harry. Count on it."

Draco loved the way Harry's chest hitched in a breathless little motion, and then the Auror leaned forward and placed a sweet kiss on Draco's lips.

"I'm not sure when you stopped being an evil prat and turned into—" He kissed Draco again, "Someone wonderful, but I'm glad it happened. I'm not quite sure how I feel about you right now, but at the very least… I trust you."

Draco kissed him hard, not caring that it hurt. Harry's words were nearly as good as a declaration of love, and far more than the Ginger Shrew could claim. He wanted to go on kissing Harry until the Auror forgot all about his foolish wife, but at last he stepped back and let Harry go.

"You might want to get out of here, Potter, before I forget myself and take you upstairs." Harry looked tempted—Draco would have sworn to it—but he smiled gently and was gone.

Author's Note: There won't be an update on this for awhile (a week maybe?) because I'll be sans Internet sobs hysterically but I'll definitely post the rest as soon as I… um… write it. LOL! Happy holidays to everyone!


	6. Chapter 6

Disclosure 

Two days later, Draco had heard nothing from Potter. He would have gnashed his teeth with frustration had Teddy not reported in to mention that Harry had been sent off on an urgent Ministry errand out of the country.

"They don't have _owls_ there?" Draco complained. He thought the comment was low enough that Teddy would not hear it, but he was mistaken. The boy laughed.

"What do you want him to say, Draco? That he misses you and will be back soon?"

Draco flushed scarlet, realizing how foolish it sounded, and yet how desperately he wished for it. Teddy sobered at his expression. "I'm sorry, cousin. You really do care for him, don't you?"

Draco gave him a cool look. "I doubt you came here to discuss Potter," he said shortly.

"Well, I sort of did. I wanted to know if Harry told you anything about the pureblood club since Eric's death. He's shut up like a bloody oyster and won't tell any of us anything. He spends all his free time trying to track down clues to discover who murdered Eric. Frankly, that's why Kingsley sent him away. He's afraid Harry will strike off on his own and get into trouble."

"Of course he'll strike off on his own and get into trouble," Draco said dryly. "It's his way. How long does Shacklebolt plan to keep him away?"

"Not long, of course. The day after tomorrow the kids will be off the train from Hogwarts. Nothing Kingsley says will keep Harry from meeting the Hogwarts Express. Harry would Apparate from death's door to be there."

Draco froze in the act of shuffling papers on his desk.

"That club has been actively trying to kill Potter, haven't they?"

Teddy nodded. His feet dangled over the arm of the chair. He always preferred to lounge rather than sit. The benefit of being raised without a father, no doubt. "It seems that way, yes."

"Then Platform Nine and Three-quarters would be an apt place to stage an attack, would it not?"

Teddy sat up with a jolt. "Damn, cousin, do you really think they would?"

"They obviously have no qualms against killing Muggles. I'm not so sure they would risk wizarding children, especially when some are bound to be their own, or at least related to some of their members, but it bears considering."

"I'll mention it to Kingsley," Teddy said, still looking thoughtful.

"Are you certain Potter is somewhere safe?" Draco asked.

Teddy's grin returned. "Draco, he's the best Auror in the world."

"He's also an idiot."

Draco gave up on trying to organize his papers. He had resorted the same pile six times and it was still a disaster. He sat back with a glare of annoyance.

"I stopped in to see Ginny this morning," Teddy commented, swinging his legs back over the arm of the chair once more. His eyes were fixed firmly on Draco, who barely blinked at the comment, thanks only to his Slytherin facilities.

"How is the lovely Mrs. Potter?" Draco asked mildly.

"Very upset, actually. She looked as though she'd been crying. I asked her what was wrong. She said she had done something stupid, but it was nothing for me to worry about."

Draco got to his feet to hide his agitation. Something stupid was a very mild way to put it. He would like to Apparate over there and explain to her just how stupid she had been.

"Really?" Draco asked as if bored with Teddy's conversation.

"I asked her if she knew anything about the pureblood club and she turned so pale I thought she might faint. She told me it was one of her stupid things. Ginny said she had originally joined because she thought they might become a threat to Harry. She planned to infiltrate them—pretend to be an Auror. She laughed when she said that, but it was one of those laughs that can turn to sobs if you let them."

Draco walked around the desk and leaned on the front edge to watch Teddy, who pulled his wand out and tapped it idly against his chin as he continued his story.

"She said it seemed quite harmless at first. She actually began to have fun, dressing up in masks and hoods and playing silly games. Apparently it was a typical club to begin with. The most daring thing they did was Apparate to the woods, drink heavily, and cast amusing hexes on one another. She said the Muggle-baiting came later, and started with silly tricks like Levitating Muggle items to the tops of roofs—bicycles, dog houses, scooters… stuff like that. Nothing even remotely dangerous."

Draco was silent. He knew as well as Teddy that _something_ had caused the club to turn from simple pranks to eventual murder.

"I asked her what changed. She shook her head and tears started to fall in earnest. I tried to comfort her, but she waved me off angrily. She said she got in over her head, and tried to blame Harry for it. She made up excuses for staying in the club… and for seeing someone she shouldn't have."

_Blaise_. Draco almost pitied the foolish woman. Draco himself could barely resist Zabini; Potter's idealistic wife would have stood no chance against Blaise's charm. Any resentment Ginny held toward Potter would have been used to Zabini's best advantage. He would have fanned the embers of discontent into flame and made every careless act of Harry's seem deliberate. Admiration tinted Draco's disgust. Zabini was very good at seduction, even if he occasionally had deplorable taste.

"I think she had an affair," Teddy said bluntly. "I just… I don't know whether or not to tell Harry. He's still trying to deal with Eric's death. This could…"

"She did, and Harry already knows about it. His darling wife confessed all."

The tapping of Teddy's wand ceased. "She did? I mean… how do you know?"

"Your idol was very distraught. He came to me for solace." Draco gave Teddy a very wicked Slytherin smile, and the young Auror hoisted himself to his feet angrily.

"What do you mean? Did you take advantage of him?"

Teddy reminded Draco of one of the angry peacocks in the yard, rising to the defense of his hero. Teddy was still awestruck by Potter, even after working with him. It was almost magic in itself. "Potter is the best Auror in the world, remember?"

"You said he's also an idiot!" Teddy burst out.

Draco picked imaginary lint from his sleeve and grinned. He maintained the silence until he thought Teddy might explode, and then he laughed. "Relax, cousin. Potter is not completely moronic. Do you honestly think I could sway him?"

"Yes," Teddy snapped.

Draco's eyes widened. "Really? Why?"

Teddy combed a hand through his silver-blond hair in his Potteresque imitation. "Oh hell, I shouldn't have brought this up at all."

"Well, you did, so spit it out."

Teddy cursed. Draco nearly chastised him for it, until he remembered the lad was an adult now, married and everything. "Damn it, I think Harry might be smitten with you. I didn't dare tell you before, but now that Ginny has… well, I hope they work things out, of course…"

Draco reflected that Teddy spent far too much time with Harry, because the boy had a tendency to ramble senselessly just like Potter. "Smitten?" he prodded.

"I shouldn't have said anything. I think I'll go now."

"Plant it, Lupin. Define smitten."

Teddy sat, looking defeated. "Damn it. All right, it's just that Harry asks about you all the time. At first I just thought he was being polite, because I sort of… mention you often. Harry is very good at getting people to talk and I recently noticed that he's been drawing more and more stories out of me. He probably knows every damn thing there is to know about you by now, down to the color of socks you prefer."

"You know what color socks I prefer?"

"Well, they tend to be green with silver trim. You wear the forest ones with silver flecks quite often…"

"I'll ignore the fact that you're stalking my sock drawer. Let's get back to Potter."

"He wears dark blue socks, mostly."

Draco's expression must have been warning enough, for Teddy laughed. "All right. I don't want to get your hopes up, really. If Ginny is determined to set things right, you know Harry will put his best effort into saving their relationship. For the kids, if nothing else."

"Is she?" Draco demanded.

"Did I not mention that part? When she was finished crying, she told me in a very determined tone that she planned to do whatever it took to get her life… and her husband… back."

**Disappearance**

Draco turned his gaze away from the slowly approaching train when a loud babble of voices approached. The Potter-Weasley clan had finally arrived. Most of the ruckus came from Ron Weasley, whose hands waved about his head as he shouted angrily. George Weasley's laughter was echoed in a familiar chuckle that made Draco's heart seize for a moment. The green eyes lifted and met Draco's. Potter smiled warmly and Draco found himself returning the expression without thinking.

The smile fled immediately when he saw Ginny standing meekly next to Harry, although her attention was on her brothers. Ron succeeded in fending off whatever attacked him and then pulled out his wand to cast a hex at George. A blue haze enveloped the elder Weasley, who waggled a finger at Ron and said something about a Shield Ring. Draco made a mental note to ask Teddy about some of the latest Weasley products cached in that damned store that Draco refused to set foot in.

He stopped watching the ginger combatants when he saw Potter walking straight toward him. Potter wore plain black robes and a long scarf in Gryffindor red, most likely to ward off the chill of the unseasonably cold summer day.

"Draco," said Harry. "I need to talk to you."

_Fucking hell_. Draco recognized the expression on the face of Mr. Transparent. It was Potter's apologetic look. The one that guaranteed he had bad news to impart. In this case, it was the "I have given in to the tears and false promises of my stupid wife and I'm going to ride this broken broom straight into the ground" look.

"Save it, Potter. I already know what you have to say. I don't want to hear it."

Harry swallowed and looked away, fixing his gaze on the churning wheels as they rolled to an eventual halt. Draco tried not to study Harry's profile and failed. He had the momentary urge to shove Ginny Potter beneath the heavy metal wheels, but decided Potter probably wouldn't visit him in Azkaban if he murdered Harry's wife.

Potter turned back. "Can you at least let me explain?"

"Fuck you, Potter. You're like that stupid mirror at Hogwarts. You can see what you want, but as soon as you reach out to touch it, you find it isn't real." _Unattainable_, Draco would have added, but he wasn't certain he could maintain his cold façade if he said it aloud.

"You know about the Mirror of Erised?" Potter asked.

Draco rolled his eyes. "Do you honestly think you're the only one that wandered about that school at night?"

Steam billowed and the doors slid open to disgorge hoards of shrieking children. They raced past in a steady stream, leaping on relatives and causing instantaneous bedlam with trunks, animals, and brooms. The Weasley children found their parents first, and then James Potter hugged his mother before trotting over to allow Harry's arm to curl around his neck. The boy grinned at Draco.

The crowd thinned measurably and James wandered off to greet his uncles.

"How do you know what I'm going to tell you?" Harry asked doggedly.

Draco sighed and wished Scorpius would hurry. The boy always took his bloody time when exiting the train. For a Hufflepuff, he was still extremely Slytherin. "It's so obvious you might as well have badges printed, Potter. As usual, you're going to do the honorable thing, instead of…"

"Instead of what?" the Auror asked with a scowl. _Instead of doing what you want_. But maybe Potter didn't want Draco at all. Maybe the scene in the dining room had just been a spur-of-the-moment thing that Potter regretted. Draco sent a violent glare Potter's way, and then a pale head caught his attention when the mist thinned. Scorpius at last, thank Merlin.

"Can I come to the Manor later?" Potter asked. He was persistent; Draco had to give him that.

Scorpius suddenly bolted toward them and Draco's eyes widened at the look of panic on his son's face.

"Father! Someone's taken Albus! I turned back to hurry him up—I was looking right at him when he disappeared!"

Scorpius had shouted so loudly that everyone nearby heard him. Ginny Potter raced over and clutched at Harry's arm. The Auror's wand was out and a terrible expression clouded his face. He tried to shake the Ginger Shrew away so he could cast.

"Oh no, no, not Albus!" she cried. Her fingers dug harder into the sleeve of Harry's robes and then she straightened with a gasp. Her next words carried an edge of command. "Take the kids home, Harry."

She released him and Disapparated with a sharp crack, leaving them all staring at the place she had vacated. Potter's shocked eyes turned to Draco, who took his shoulder sharply.

"Bring the kids to the Manor. Your house might not be safe. I'll have my mother keep an eye on them while we determine how to find Albus."

It was a sign of Harry's distress that he did not argue. They hustled together children and luggage and departed for the Manor.


	7. Chapter 7

Tracking Albus 

The Manor was chaos, with everyone talking at once. James Potter was shouting, Lily was sobbing, Harry was snarling curses, and Narcissa demanded to know what was happening. Teddy Apparated in at that moment with several Aurors in tow, adding to the din.

"Merlin! I'm so sorry, Harry. We were there watching for an attack on you—we never dreamed they would grab one of the kids!" Teddy said. Draco refrained from comment. He should have realized it himself. The Aurors began talking, trying to offer helpful suggestions or excuses. Draco grabbed Harry and Disapparated to his study for a moment of peace.

"Do you have any way of tracking your son?" Draco asked immediately and Harry shook his head, looking thoroughly miserable.

"I had tracking spells on them when they were younger, but when they hit thirteen… well, it seemed an invasion of privacy for a teenager. And hell, they were at Hogwarts!"

Draco refrained from rolling his eyes. Stupid Gryffindor morals. Draco could track Scorpius anywhere in the world through their Malfoy signet rings, and he planned to leave that spell in effect until Scorpius was fifty years old, privacy be damned.

"All right, then we just have to determine who took him and where."

Teddy barged into the room and gave them both an irritated look. "Thanks for leaving me there to field all the questions," he snapped, and then said glanced at his hero apologetically. "Sorry, Harry; I don't really mind. I think it's obvious the Pureblood Club is involved. They are your only active enemies, at the moment. We should start there."

Draco already had several tomes spread out on his desk in an attempt to find a Locating Spell. "Damn, this one looks promising, but it requires blood from the victim."

Harry nodded. "We use that one at work." His voice was nearly inaudible and his agitated pacing was far more pronounced than usual. "It works great in cases where blood is left at the crime scene."

"Doesn't help us here at all, though," Teddy muttered.

"How do Aurors find people when no blood is involved?" Draco asked.

"The old fashioned way," Harry snapped. "We track down people that last had contact with the victim, we talk to possible enemies, we search every possible location… Fuck! Why Al? Why the hell would they take Al?"

Draco and Teddy shared a look. "To draw you out, Harry," Draco said quietly. "I'm sure you'll be getting a message any time now. I'm trying to give us the upper hand by locating them first and taking them by surprise."

"You know where to find the headquarters of this pureblood club, correct?" Harry asked. Draco's words seemed to have calmed the Auror somewhat. He likely found it comforting to know that if his son were held as bait, at least Al would probably not be harmed.

"They would never take him there. Too public," Draco decided. At Potter's look, he added, "But I'll check anyway. Come, Ted."

He grabbed Teddy's arm and Disapparated to the mansion where he had first discovered Ginny Potter's affair with Blaise. As expected, it was deserted. He was about to return to the Manor when an idea struck him.

"Go back and keep trying to find a way to track down Albus," he said to Teddy. "I'll be back shortly. I need to fetch something."

Or someone.

Pansy Parkinson was in no mood to be fetched. Draco was glad to find her dressed and alone when he appeared in her bedchamber. Her eyes met his in the mirror as she combed her long dark locks with an abalone comb. "As much as the sight of you in my bedroom excites me, Draco, you don't look to be here for a tryst."

"I need your help."

Pansy put the comb down and turned on him with a wicked smile, scenting favors.

"Four very sweet words, coming from you. It will cost you, of course."

"I'm aware of that, Pansy. It's important. One of Potter's offspring has been kidnapped, most likely by that lovely club of yours."

She sniffed, but got to her feet. "Not my club any longer, remember? You coerced me into quitting."

"Whatever. I need your help to try and find the lad."

"Now? Angelica and I are going to tea…"

"Pansy," he said warningly.

"Oh all right. Anything for your little crush, eh?" She sighed and called a house-elf. After a few instructions and a message for her daughter, she accompanied Draco back to Malfoy Manor. Potter was shouting at Teddy, but he broke off in mid-bellow when he saw Draco. Scorpius and James were also in attendance. Draco's son huddled miserably in a chair with his arms wrapped around his drawn-up legs. James paced on the opposite side of the room from his father.

"Potter," Pansy said sharply when Harry's eyes touched her.

"Parkinson," he said in the same tone. Her eyes narrowed and she spun on Draco.

"Do I really have to help him? He's such an arse."

"You're not doing it for Potter, you're doing it for me," he said placatingly.

"I'm not sure that's good enough. Honestly, Draco, what do you see in him? I don't care how pretty his green eyes are or how fit he looks, he's got the bloody personality of a warthog. I can understand shagging him, but did you have to fall in love with the git?"

Shocked silence met her pronouncement and Draco watched Potter's jaw drop before he snapped his gaze to that of Scorpius. The lad blinked at Draco in surprise. He quirked a grin at his son and nodded sharply. The boy raised a brow in a gesture so familiar it was like looking into a mirror.

James guffawed and muttered, "Slytherins." Unlike the others in the room, Potter's eldest was obviously not prepared to believe Pansy's words. Her eyes sparkled and she smiled brightly as she watched the color creep into Potter's cheeks. At least the Auror had managed to close his mouth.

"I'll help you now," Pansy said brightly to Draco. He suppressed a grin with effort. She was utterly without scruples, but he planned to use that to his advantage.

"All right. Take me to all the places that foolish club has met, starting with the most likely for holding a kidnapped boy with intent to set a trap for his famous father."

Pansy blew Harry a kiss, took Draco's arm, and Disapparated.

Pureblood Haunts 

The fifth house was the winning Snitch.

"This is it," he said to Pansy, who leaned heavily against him, panting with exertion. Their last Apparition had been a fair distance. If they were not in Scotland, they were damned close to the border by his reckoning.

"How can you tell?" she asked tiredly. The had Apparated far enough from each place to avoid audible detection, and then walked within viewing distance.

"Lurker," he said and pointed out a hooded man loitering near the front entrance. Except for the glow of his cigarette, he was nearly invisible against the dark wood of the slightly ramshackle house. Draco's Disillusionment Charm kept the man from noticing them. "Damn it. This is really bad, Pans."

She looked up curiously. "Why? It looks easy enough to take. Can't Super Potter just knock the building down or something?"

"I don't think he's quite as powerful as the Daily Prophet likes to pretend," Draco said. "In any case, that's not what I meant. This house belongs to Blaise."

She perked up curiously and a sneer curved her pretty lips as she stared at the building. "Really? How do you know? It's revolting. Why would Blaise hang onto something so run down?"

"He brought me here once, when we were teens. It belonged to his family, back when the Zabinis were nearly destitute, before his grandfather married that Benchley heiress and gained her fortune. I think they hold the place for sentimental reasons."

"Some sentiments should be burned."

"Let's go back and get Potter."

At Draco's news, Harry and James leaped forward with wands drawn. It led to an immediate argument as Harry tried to force his son to stay.

"I'm older than you were when you first confronted Voldemort!" James snarled.

"That's because I didn't have parents to look out for me!" Harry yelled.

"Spare me! I've heard enough stories of Dumbledore to know he was just like a father to you. He let you do plenty!"

"Albus is already in danger, James! I don't want to worry about you, too. Besides, you need to stay here and watch Lily and Scorpius."

Draco turned to look at his son, expecting to meet the same hardheaded argument, but Scorpius was gone. His brow furrowed, but Teddy answered his unspoken question.

"He said he needed to get something."

Draco nodded, wondering what could be so important that his son would disappear when the rescue of his friend was imminent. If he could hurry the Potters, Draco might be spared an argument with his own child.

"Let him come, Potter. He'll be safe enough with us. I assume you're bringing an army of Aurors."

Harry glared at him, but nodded. "They're downstairs. Let's go. I'll send Teddy back to guide the others."

"Pansy, you take Teddy and I'll take Potter."

"Of course you will," she muttered, but moved quickly to link her arm through Teddy's and smile saucily at him as her breasts pressed into his upper arm. "Teddy Lupin. How handsome you are." The young Auror barely had time to blush before they were gone.

Draco put his arm around Harry and drew him into an embrace that had little to do with Apparition. Potter relaxed minutely against Draco and his chin dropped to Draco's shoulder for only a moment. Draco squeezed him gently and Disapparated. As he did so, he felt a feather-light touch against his arm. At that moment, he knew where his son had gone and why.

Draco wondered if the entire Auror Department consisted of former Gryffindors, because they charged in with wands drawn and hexes flying, leaping into battle without a single hint of Slytherin guile. Draco had never seen Harry Potter in action and it was a sight to behold. He was quick—even faster than when he had been a Seeker at Hogwarts. Harry bobbed and dove and cast spells with flawless aim. After Draco's own aim had been thwarted for the fourth time by a head topped with messy black hair, Draco realized the Auror was _protecting_ him. Draco's next curse nearly singed Potter's ear at it whizzed over his shoulder and toppled a cloaked figure.

The green eyes stared at him in surprise. Draco smirked. "I'm not helpless, Harry."

A grin quirked Potter's lips, and then he bounded after a retreating figure, leaving Draco to his own devices. The damned place was full of unskilled idiots in hindering capes and hoods. They were dangerous only by number and their willingness to use the most hideous curses imaginable. One Auror was bathed in what appeared to be acid before he screamed and Disapparated, hopefully straight to St. Mungo's. Another fell with what looked to be dozens of broken bones. Draco noticed both Harry and Teddy had gravitated to James and were subtly shielding him. The boy had been allowed to come only after strict orders that he hang back and do nothing even vaguely stupid.

Draco wondered where Scorpius had gone and hoped to hell he had not made a mistake by not calling the boy out. He would just have to trust his son—and Potter's old invisibility cloak.

Pansy had disappeared shortly after bringing Teddy through, claiming she had no intention of breaking a nail in some ridiculous battle. She had done her part and would see Draco later to demand payment. He cringed at the thought, and then raised his wand and set fire to the robes of a woman who stepped from behind a rusty suit of armor with the intent to cast a hex at Potter's back.

She screamed and a hex from Teddy dropped her, still smoldering aflame. A second spell doused her with water, but she did not rouse.

When the other opponents had fallen or fled, Harry looked at Draco. "No sign of Albus. I'll need to check upstairs. Teddy, you and James help the Aurors round up these idiots and prepare them for transport to the Ministy. Take care, there were many that escaped." He silenced James's protest with a glare and then jogged for the stairs. Draco joined him.

They encountered no one on the stairs, and met a long hallway filled with nothing but closed doors. Harry strode to the first door and flung it open with wand ready. He crossed the hallway to the next and did the same. Draco watched him and wondered if the battle below had been nothing but an elaborate feint.

Potter passed by Draco on his way to the next door. Green eyes touched his in passing and their gazes locked for a moment.

"You're wrong, you know," Harry said as he wrenched open the door with a half-crouch that Draco admired immensely.

"Wrong?" Draco echoed.

"As in not correct. Mistaken. The opposite of accurate."

"I know what it means, Potter, I simply don't know what you're talking about."

The next room was empty and Harry let out a frustrated breath, whether at Draco's words or the fact that there was no enemy showing themselves for angry hexing, Draco wasn't certain.

"When you said I planned to do the honorable thing. You were wrong."

Draco froze and Harry paused on his way to the next door. The Auror chuckled.

"I know it's a lot for you to take in, being _wrong_ and all… Hang on a moment." Draco watched as Potter invaded another empty room and left it behind, and then returned to Draco. Harry curled a hand into the collar of Draco's robes and pulled him into a stunned kiss. It was determined and intense, and sent shivers coursing through Draco's veins. Harry pulled away and breathed, "I think it's time I gave my Slytherin side some leeway, don't you?"

Draco's arms tightened around the Auror. "Yeah," he managed.

"If we survive," Harry added. "Now, let's find my son."

Draco let him go and accompanied him down the hall. His hand tightened around his wand with newfound determination. _If we survive_. Draco would make damn sure of that, now that he had something to anticipate.

Ginny's Choice 

The double doors at the end of the hall made Harry shoot Draco a warning look after he cocked his dark head and listened. Draco readied his wand and followed Harry's rush through the door. Whatever hex Harry was about to issue died on his lips. Draco took in the scene quickly. Four people occupied the room.

Albus Potter was the center of attention, bound to a heavy chair and held by more than ropes—a web of pink-tinted magic crisscrossed over him in an ominous dome. The dark head lolled slightly, as if he had been drugged or hit with a Confundus. The room rang with the words the boy had shouted: "_I hate you_!"

A dark-haired teenaged girl sat in a window alcove. She seemed to be observing the scene. Blaise Zabini stood before a large wooden desk. At his feet knelt Ginny Potter. Blaise's hand was twisted in Ginny's red hair and his wand dug into her cheek.

"Like father, like son, eh Potter?"

"You guessed it, Zabini," Harry snarled. "Now put the fucking wand down and get away from _my wife_!"

The words struck Draco and would have been a thousand time worse had not Potter halted him in the corridor with a confession and a kiss.

"You're slightly early, Potter, but I've been expecting you," Blaise said. Draco held his wand steady as Blaise's glare pierced him. "I was not expecting _you_, Draco, you bloody traitor," he hissed.

Draco laughed harshly. "You are the last person from whom I want to hear a lecture on loyalty, Blaise. What the hell are you doing kidnapping children?"

"Ridding the world of blood-tainted scum." The wand twisted into Ginny's face and she cried out. Her eyes were wide with fear and pain. "Ah, ah, Potter, I wouldn't do that if I were you."

Harry's wand tip dropped slightly and he sneered. "So you're the new Voldemort?"

"Not exactly. My motives are nothing like his, since he was obviously insane. My reasons are far more practical. I have had quite enough of the anti-pureblood sentiment that has overtaken the Ministry. It's their own fault, really, for banning purebloods from decent jobs and treating us like second-class citizens."

"They haven't been banned, Zabini," Potter said in a reasonable tone.

Blaise sneered and his hand seemed to tighten in Ginny's hair. She winced. "Shut the hell up, Potter. You and your Mudblood friends have been sitting pretty since the war. Even your new friend Draco spends most of his time locked away in his mansion rather than risk being spit upon. Pureblood and former Death Eater both. Some of us are doubly damned."

Harry glanced sidelong at Draco, who shrugged. It was true, although minding his estates and investments kept Draco more than busy enough to seek out the general populace. When he had been younger, the glares and sneers had been alarming, but those seemed to have lessened over the years. Apparently, Blaise had not noticed any change.

Blaise went on, "However, you are not here to discuss my political motivations. You are here to rescue your precious child, are you not? And quite possibly your wife, although I somewhat fear you would rather discard her. Your arrival with Draco has opened up a world of interesting possibilities. You always were obsessed with Potter, Draco. Has he finally succumbed to your wiles?"

A hex suddenly shot from Harry's wand. The startling blue light would have hit Blaise dead-on… and did, in fact, except that the effect was unexpected. A purple-blue glow crackled around Blaise and seemed to vibrate as it absorbed the energy and was gone. The girl in the window seat gasped and sat forward with her wand at the ready. Blaise chuckled wickedly.

"Oh good show, Potter. That would have knocked me for a loop, would it not? Luckily, I shop at Weasley's Wizard Wheezes. They have the most fascinating items there, including these fabulous Shield Rings. Of course, I've modified this one a bit… it is quite a lot stronger than those developed by your brother-in-law." Blaise's tone went from amused to harsh in an instant. "Now put your wands down and back away or I'll split this bitch in two."

Draco saw Harry go pale, and then the Auror tossed his wand casually in Blaise's direction. Only Draco noticed the tension rippling through Harry's body.

"You too, Draco," Blaise snapped.

"I'm thinking," Draco quipped. Harry turned on him with horror-filled eyes and Blaise barked a surprised laugh. "Oh all right," Draco said. He wasn't really tempted to see if Blaise would kill Potter's wife. Well… not _extremely_ tempted at any rate.

He threw his wand after Potter's and wondered if Harry could Summon the length of holly back if Blaise were sufficiently distracted. Then again… that Shield Ring was problematic. Harry's gaze moved to Albus, and Draco saw the boy slumped in his chair, looking tired and terrified.

Blaise barely moved his wand away from Ginny's cheek before Summoning both wands from the floor. He shoved Ginny away from him roughly and tucked the wands into a pocket of his robes.

"Very good. This will go so much more smoothly if you cooperate. Now then, here is the situation. Oh wait, we don't want to be interrupted by any of your Auror friends, do we, Potter?"

Blaise gestured to the doors, which slammed shut and locked. Draco recognized the spells and knew even trained Aurors would not be opening them any time soon. He had no doubt the windows had been similarly spelled prior to their arrival. Draco expected Harry's wife to gain her feet, but she remained on the ground. Her limbs shook visibly and Draco recognized the effects of extended Crutiatus Curses. Obviously, the love affair was over. Blaise disregarded her as though she were a rag he had used to polish his broom.

"Your son has been given a slow-acting poison, Potter," Blaise commented. Harry gasped and took two steps toward Albus, but Blaise's lifted hand stopped him. "The pretty ring around Albus will, of course, kill you if you cross it. Then again, that's the whole idea, isn't it?"

Blaise had the full attention of everyone in the room at that comment. He smiled, loving attention in a way only Blaise Zabini could. The bastard fairly glowed with delight, but Draco thought the new malice diminished his charm quite a lot.

Blaise held up a small vial of clear liquid. "This is the antidote, Potter. After crossing the field, you _should_ have enough time to administer it to the boy before you die. You seem quite strong and fit, I'm certain you can do it. You've always been lucky, after all; you are the Boy Who Lived."

"No, Blaise," Draco said angrily. "That's enough. Whatever prompted this idiocy can be resolved. If you seek a damned position in the Ministry, I'm certain Potter would be more than happy to provide one for you or—"

"Listen to yourself, Draco!" Blaise cried. "What in Merlin's name have you become? Slytherins do not beg for help, they lurk in the shadows and strike after careful planning and preparation. You should know I will not back down after going this far. Do you honestly believe Potter will forgive and forget after I arranged the death of his partner? Will you, Potter?"

"No," Harry said flatly, making Draco consider smacking him on the back of the head with an open palm. Goddamn Gryffindor honesty. No wonder they were such piss-poor negotiators.

"Give me the antidote. I'll do it," the Auror continued in a flat tone.

"I knew I could count on you," Blaise said with a smirk. Draco readied himself to leap on Potter and wrestle the vial from him. There had to be another way to take down Blaise and rescue Albus. Draco only needed a few moments to think.

Blaise lowered the hand that held the vial, preparing to toss it. Draco hissed in annoyance, knowing Zabini planned to throw it on the off chance that Harry's Seeker reflexes would fail him. The glass container would smash on the stone floor if Harry did not catch it.

Harry never got the chance. Ginny Potter launched herself from the floor and snatched the vial from Blaise's hand. She bolted across the room and through the pink web of lines surrounding her black-haired son. A shriek tore from her lips as she collapsed on the floor. The vial slipped from her fingers and rolled away with a delicate clink.

"_Ginny_!" Harry screamed and it mingled with a cry from his son. He turned on Blaise with an expression of rage Draco had never witnessed. "You bastard!" Harry flung himself at Blaise with hands reaching for Zabini's throat. Blaise cried out and backed into the desk, but he was still quick. A Cruciatus Curse caught Harry moments before Potter's hands tore at Blaise's robes, struggling to reach his throat.

"_Crucio_! _Crucio_!" Blaise shouted and the bright glow of the hexes limned Harry again and again.

"Oh fuck," Draco said and raced forward to try and wrest the wand from Blaise. He yelped as the backlash of the curse hit him. Blaise kept casting, trying to shrug them off. The three of them fell in a tangle of limbs and robes.


	8. Chapter 8

**Spells and Surprises**

"Get the wands, Harry," Draco cried. Potter's green eyes flashed as he wrested free of Blaise's clutching fingers to tear at the man's robes. Then Harry screamed and Draco thought they were howls of pain until he made out words. "Get… Albus!"

Draco shoved as hard as he could against Blaise and raised his head to look across the room. Albus Potter was gone. Ginny still lay on the floor before the chair. The other girl was motionless in the window seat, slumped as if unconscious. Draco indulged in a moment of fatherly pride as he turned back and grabbed for Blaise's wrist.

The distraction had only taken a moment but in that time Blaise had cast another spell. Harry's scream was genuine this time and Draco watched in horror as the Auror fell back and lay still. Draco stopped wrestling with Blaise's wrist to claw at his dark-skinned throat.

"What have you done, Blaise?" he yelled.

"Backup plan," Blaise said hoarsely before Draco's hands tightened. Blaise's wand dug into Draco's ribs, but he could not get breath enough to speak again. Draco partially lifted him by his neck and slammed his head into the floor. The pressure of the wand lessened.

"What. Spell. Did. You. Use?" Draco thundered, punctuating each word with a blow against the floor. Blaise's head lolled and Draco relaxed his hold on Blaise's throat to grip the neck of his robes.

Behind them a loud splintering sound followed an explosion. Draco did not bother to look, assuming the troops had arrived.

"Tell me, Blaise," he gritted through bared teeth.

Blaise's dark eyes slid open. "Draco," he said in a rasp. "Fuck… you."

Draco thought he must have gone slightly mad then. He vaguely recalled using his fists and snarling with rage, but it was all a blur until he heard Teddy Lupin bellowing at him to stop. Three Aurors dragged him away from Blaise's still form.

Draco met Teddy's concerned eyes for only a moment before shrugging off the Aurors and turning to Harry.

"Merlin, please," he begged softly as his fingers felt Harry's neck, desperately seeking a pulse. A weak flutter met his questing touch and he gave thanks for Harry's endless Gryffindor stubbornness. Potter would not die so easily. Whatever spell had taken him, he was fighting it.

"I'm taking him to St. Mungo's," Draco snapped. "Find Albus and Scorpius."

"Scorpius is here?" Teddy asked in surprise.

"He took Albus out under Potter's invisibility cloak."

Draco wrapped his arms around the still Auror and Disapparated. At the hospital, Harry was taken from Draco's arms and whisked away, possibly forever.

Draco fought despair and went back to force some answers from Blaise Zabini.

Blaise was gone when Draco returned.

"They took him to the Ministry," Teddy replied to Draco's enraged question. "We'll be lucky if he lives. You beat him nearly to death."

"If he wakes up I plan to finish what I started."

"Which is why you can't see him."

"I need to know what spell he used on Harry."

"Zabini will be questioned when he regains consciousness. They'll use Veritaserum, Draco."

Draco sneered to let Teddy know what he thought of the Ministry's questioning methods.

"Did you find my son?"

"You've only been gone five minutes. I sent Harris and Jameson to look for them." Teddy's attention was on Ginny as he spoke and Draco felt a moment of remorse. He relented, knowing Teddy had been close to the Ginger… well, to Harry's wife. Draco had little doubt Ginny Potter was dead. Blaise had meant the field to kill Harry Potter, and Ginny had been weak before they had arrived; no doubt Blaise had treated her to a Cruciatus session before their arrival. She'd had the look of it.

"Who is the girl?" Draco asked. The dark-haired girl was slumped in the window seat. "Is she alive?"

"We don't know," Teddy said. "She's unconscious. We couldn't rouse her, even with an Ennervate. I'll take her to St. Mungo's in a minute." The Auror knelt and turned Ginny over gently.

"I'll go find Scorpius and Albus," Draco said softly and squeezed Teddy's shoulder. The young Auror nodded and then caught at Draco's robes when he turned.

"Here is your wand. And Harry's."

Draco took them and hoped to hell that he would be able to return the holly to its owner.

In the corridor, he found an Auror standing in front of a door. Her brow furrowed in concentration. She glanced at Draco.

"It's magically locked. I can't open it, and I've tried a dozen of the usual spells."

Draco lifted his wand and cast a spell at the door, which clicked open, proving Scorpius had locked it. Only the Malfoy family knew certain locking spells. Draco pushed the door open and strode into the dusty bedchamber.

Scorpius and Albus were on the bed, locked in a heated embrace and a kiss worthy of any torrid novel. Draco's brows shot up in surprise as he halted. The boys broke apart and both faces reddened guiltily.

"F… Father," Scorpius stammered and eased himself off the bed.

Draco blinked at him for a moment longer, until veracity trounced his preconceptions. Hell, he should have seen it coming, really. If he and Harry had been boyhood friends, would they have found each other sooner? His son's eyes were beginning to go wide with panic.

"I got Albus out safely," Scorpius whispered in a tone thick with dread.

Draco smiled gently and made sure it reached his eyes. "So I see," he said teasingly. Scorpius inhaled sharply. Draco turned his attention to Albus. After the initial blush, Albus had not seemed disturbed. His chin lifted in a defiant attitude that Draco recognized all too well. Hufflepuff House or not, the boy was all Gryffindor.

"Hi, Mr. Malfoy," Albus said placidly and then his brow furrowed. "Where's my dad?"

Draco sobered. "I'll take you to St. Mungo's," he said as he strode forward. "Come, Scorpius."

His son grabbed a length of silvery cloth from the bed—the invisibility cloak, no doubt—and stood next to Draco, who leaned down to slide an arm beneath Albus Potter. Draco put his other arm around Scorpius's shoulders.

He Apparated them to St. Mungo's, where the younger Potter was also taken away. One of the medi-witches gave Draco a stern look, as if he were the one responsible for the Potter maladies. He looked at Scorpius and wished he had told Albus about Harry. It would not be right for the boy to hear it from a stranger.

Scorpius watched them take Albus away with a worried expression.

"Will he be okay?" Scorpius asked.

"I'm sure of it. Why don't you go with Albus while I check on his father? I'll join you in a few minutes."

Scorpius nodded and started away, then he darted back and threw his arms around Draco's waist. Draco hugged him tightly, feeling his throat close up with emotion. Scorpius released him and hurried after Albus Potter.

The waiting room for the wing containing Harry was crowded to say the least. Teddy and James were present, as were several Aurors and, of course, an assortment of gingers and a bushy-haired ex-Granger. She glared at Draco. He silently dared her to ask about his presence. She looked away without speaking after a moment.

"Ted, how is he?" Draco asked.

Teddy gave him a miserable look. Beside him, James was pale and silent.

"They haven't given us any word. Harris said you found Albus?"

Draco nodded. "He's awake and seems fine, if tired. The staff took him away to make certain."

The door opened and those seated leaped to their feet. The mediwizard looked at them sadly. "Mr. Draco Malfoy?" he asked.

"Yes?" Draco stepped forward.

"Please come with me."

Draco allowed himself the indulgence of looking at Ron and Hermione. As expected, their faces were taut with disbelief. Draco was too worried to look smug, especially when he entered the room to find Harry lying still as death, surrounded by a Stasis Shield.

"Can you tell me what happened to Mr. Potter?" the mediwizard asked as Draco moved forward and looked carefully at Harry's face, searching for any sign of life. He explained the circumstances that led to Harry's current state.

"You have no idea what spell—?"

Draco shook his head. He had already gone over and over it, trying to recall the words Blaise had snarled, but they had been too soft and unintelligible.

"Only Blaise Zabini knows."

The mediwizard sighed. "Perhaps the Ministry can persuade him to reveal it, then."

Draco suppressed a sneer. Blaise would never talk. Now that Draco was no longer blind with rage, he knew it to be true. Even Veritaserum would be wasted. Blaise was too much a Slytherin not to have set up measures for his alternate plan. Any attempt to wrest the information from his mind would result in its permanent Obliviation.

"Mr. Potter regained consciousness for a short time. He directed us to give you a message."

Draco cringed, hoping to hell Potter had not confessed his love in a burst of dying Gryffindor nobility. If those words were ever forthcoming, Draco wanted to hear them directly from Harry—an awake and alert Harry, preferably.

The mediwizard surprised him. "It was very odd, so we wrote it down. Mr. Potter repeated it twice and said to tell you specifically. The message is '_visca penetralum_' and '_perilous malium incantorum_', does that mean anything?"

The words meant nothing to Draco. He looked at the still Auror in bafflement.

"_Perilous malium incantorum_… that sounds like a…" _Book_. Draco's mind went back to his meeting with Potter so long ago in the bookstore.

_Looking into Archaic Magic, then?_

_I like to research obscure spells. You never know when they might come in handy._

_That's quite a coincidence. I have a huge library full of obscure spell books._

"What are his symptoms?" Draco demanded. The mediwizard blinked at the harsh urgency in his tone.

"The spell—it seems to be degrading his tissues, especially the organs. We've slowed the process as best we can, but we cannot stop or reverse it, especially without knowing the original spell. We were forced to put him into Stasis to keep it from killing him quickly. As it is, we've only bought him some time. We think the spell was attuned to him as a specific victim. Mr. Zabini intended to cast the spell on Mr. Potter alone, is that correct?"

"Yes." Draco's mind raced. Target-specific spells. _Visca Penetralum_. Obscure spell books. "I'll be back."

He entered the waiting room. "Harry is in Stasis. We're not sure what spell Blaise used on him. Granger, if you want to help, go look for any spell with an incantation containing _Visca Penetralum_ or a variant. Specifically look for a book titled Perilous Malium Incantorm."

"It's not Granger, it's—"

Draco's vicious glare cut her off. "Teddy, Scorpius is with Albus, where I'm quite certain he prefers to stay. Please see that he gets home. James and Lily may stay with me, of course. I would prefer that someone else inform Lily about her mother… she does not know me, obviously, so I would be small comfort. I'll be at home in my library until further notice."

Draco Apparated to the Manor and cast a Seeking Spell. He tried several variations and finally located an ancient book with a title similar to Harry's message: Perilous Maleficorum Incantaticus. Draco set his jaw when he saw it, surprised that Harry had even seen such a book. It was full of Dark Spells. Very Dark.

Draco cast several Protection Spells to keep insidious hexes from harming him while he read—most authors of Dark Magic possessed nasty senses of humour that lingered long after their deaths.

He began the enormous task of looking for an unknown spell in a book never designed for ease of use.


	9. Chapter 9

**Reluctant Cooperation**

Draco rubbed his eyes. They felt like dry stones in sockets full of sand. He picked up his wand and cast a spell to banish his headache, knowing he would pay the price later. The clock chimed four times as if mocking him; only a few hours until daybreak and Merlin knew when he would be able to sleep.

The fire flared in the grate and Granger (Weasley's) head appeared in the flames. She had been at the Manor earlier to break the news to Lily Potter, but Draco had not left the library to play host to any of his guests.

"May I come through?" she asked politely.

Draco gave assent and she stepped into the room, looking as tired as Draco felt. She carried a book—the same volume that lay open before Draco, although her copy looked quite a lot shabbier.

"You found it," he commented.

She nodded. "At Harry's. Although what he was doing with a book on magic _this_ Dark is beyond my comprehension." Her lips pursed with disapproval. Draco felt a flash of annoyance that had little to do with her words and more to do with the fact that she had free rein to come and go at Harry's residence as she pleased. He reminded himself that things would change once Harry was well. He hoped.

"He's an Auror. It's intelligent to know what spells you could be hit with in the field, don't you think? We're damned lucky Harry has been collecting these books, or it would have taken us weeks to locate this particular spell."

Her jaw tightened. She most likely itched to fight with him, but logic won and she nodded. "Do you think we can stop it?" she asked. "There is no counter-curse."

"There is no counter-curse _yet_," Draco corrected. "We will have to come up with one, won't we?" He gestured to the book. "Now, some of the elements are similar to the Aging Curse, with an unhealthy dose of a Degradation Charm…"

There followed an hour of intense discussion, diagramming, arguing, and even a round or two of yelling. When a house-elf popped into replenish the tea, Draco's companion did not even pause to give him a disapproving glare. He thought there might be hope for her, after all.

Draco found his son in Albus Potter's room shortly after daybreak. The boys were tangled together like lovers and Draco felt his heart wrench at the sight. He hoped they would have an easier time of it than he and Harry. He brushed a hand over his son's fine hair. It looked almost white next to Albus's raven-black locks.

A lump next to Albus shifted and a ginger head appeared. Draco noted with surprise that it was Lily Potter. Her eyes opened and she regarded him solemnly.

Draco walked around the bed and held out his arms. She stood up and climbed into them, even though she was nearly too big to comfortably carry. Her head rested against his shoulder.

"Score said you're going to help my dad," she mumbled.

"I am. Your Aunt and I are going back to the hospital shortly. Would you like to break fast with my mother? It's still early, but she's awake."

Lily nodded. "She's nice. She said she would show me her hairpin collection."

Draco grinned. "That should keep you busy most of the morning."

"Really?"

"She seemed to have an infinite supply, but perhaps I'm no judge."

He dropped Lily off in the dining room where his bushy-haired accomplice made polite but strained conversation with his mother. Granger (Weasley) hugged Lily and miraculously said nothing when the house-elves popped in to bring the child breakfast and beverages. Although she did manage to give Draco the expected glare of disgust this time.

"The boys are still sleeping. Best let them rest," he told his mother. She nodded and smiled at Lily, who gulped noisily at a cup of juice. Draco tried not to think about what else the boys might do when they awoke. _Hypocrite_, he told himself and grinned ruefully. What had he been doing at that age? Experimenting with Pansy and Blaise… Merlin, the Yule Ball… If only he had recognized his feelings for Harry back then, and if Harry had not hated him, of course…

Granger (Weasley) coughed slightly and obviously waited for him to answer whatever question he had ignored while he was lost in thought. He scowled and decided to forego the Weasley portion of her name. He would always think of her as Granger and there were too damned many Weasleys, anyway. And he would never call her Hermione.

"Pardon?" he asked politely.

"Are you ready?" Her voice was snappish and ragged, likely from studying archaic Dark tomes all night without rest. Either that or she simply did not like Draco. Perhaps both. He gave her his most charming smile.

"Of course. Let us be off to rescue our favourite Gryffindor," he said, then added, "Well, _my_ favourite Gryffindor, at any rate."

Granger rolled her eyes and brushed past him, muttering something about, "When did Gryffindors make your list of favourites?"

Draco followed her to St. Mungo's.

The hospital was still and quiet at such an early hour. James Potter and George Weasley were asleep on small cots in the waiting room. Draco believed St. Mungo's purposefully made it difficult to sleep at the hospital to encourage family members to Apparate home rather than clogging up the rooms and corridors. Draco and Granger tracked down several staff members, and the Malfoy glare silenced those that dared to voice an opinion about their proposed unorthodox healing method. Granger's presence most likely helped. Malfoy glare or not, they might have tried to prevent a former Death Eater from casting spells on the Saviour of the Wizarding World, or at least delayed long enough to cause Harry's condition to worsen. Even though Draco was tired, he refused to allow them to wait. Blaise's spell had not been halted by the Stasis, only slowed.

Draco personally selected three of the staff he judged to be most competent—and by competent he felt they would shut up and take orders. Outside Harry's room, he quietly explained the procedure, with Granger adding details or answering questions. Once the Statis Spell was removed they would have to work quickly.

The head mediwitch was a burly woman with steely blue eyes and steely grey hair. Draco thought he would have trouble with her, but she seemed genuinely interested in helping Harry, regardless of the methods used. She allowed them into the room and they arranged themselves around Harry's bed. His condition seemed unchanged. Granger bit her lip and met Draco's eyes for a moment in shared pain. Draco longed to reach out and brush the black hair away from Potter's smooth forehead, but instead he drew his wand and gave the head mediwitch a curt nod.

When she judged they were in the appropriate positions, she cancelled the Stasis Spell. Draco and the others began to chant at once. The magic in the room flared and became almost tangible. Draco and Granger spoke evenly and without haste, standing on either side of Harry's bed. Their words rang together, identical in tone and inflection. They had practiced for nearly an hour to get it right. For the first time in his life, Draco was damned glad Hermione Granger was a quick study.

The healers frantically cast Healing Spells to slow the damage caused by Blaise's hex, no longer fettered by the Stasis. Draco stifled the urge to race through the complex words of the new counter-curse. One mispronunciation would be disastrous.

A bright yellow glow erupted simultaneously from the wands of Draco and his bushy-haired accomplice. The strange glow flowed over Harry and seemed to settle into his skin. Draco's and Hermione's words ended at the same moment. Draco dropped to his knees and took Harry's limp hand. He leaned close and murmured in the Auror's ear.

"We've done all we can, Potter. It's up to you now. Fight, Harry. Don't leave me after all we've been through."

He shut his eyes and listened to the healers chant as they continued to cast Healing Charms. Finally there was silence.

"Merlin," the head mediwitch breathed. "I think it's working."

One of the younger ones nodded. His voice was pitched high with excitement. "Yes, the effects are no longer spreading!"

They cast several spells that Draco recognized as diagnostic and checked Harry over carefully. The older witch shook her head with a heavy sigh.

"Mr. Potter suffered significant harm, in any case. Only time will tell what the consequences may be. The spell targeted his musculature and organs. We've managed to keep his heart healthy, but damage to his kidneys, lungs, and liver remain to be seen." She paused and rested a hand gently on Draco's shoulder. "Just to prepare you, he could have loss of some motor functions… or even brain damage. And that is if he regains consciousness at all. It is mainly up to his own physiology now. Magic can only do so much."

Draco swallowed hard and nodded, unwilling to acknowledge the cold knot of fear generated by her words. "Even if he's a bloody vegetable for the rest of his life, I'll take care of him," Draco said quietly and stroked the soft flesh between Harry's thumb and forefinger.

Before he knew what hit him, he was enveloped in soft female flesh. _Granger was hugging him_! She clung to him for a long moment and her wet cheek pressed against his face.

"I'm sorry," she said finally as she drew back. "Harry said you had changed. He spoke of you often, even though we refused to listen. His voice… when he talked about you his voice, well it was almost like he was infatuated. I admit I thought he was under a spell or the effects of a potion. Even after all these years I still did not want to trust you, even though he did. But if Harry lives at all, it will be because of you, so thank you. Draco."

He met her eyes sardonically for a moment and thought it was a peculiar Gryffindor trait that caused them to change their minds drastically in an instant, and then unload their newfound convictions on the nearest victim. He nodded solemnly, not quite willing to spoil her speech with sarcasm.

"I'm going home. Please let us know immediately if there is any change."

Granger went out, followed by two of the healers. The burly witch stayed behind for a while longer, casting spells and pursing her lips. She said nothing, however, and finally left Draco alone with Harry.

He sighed and half-stood to press a kiss on the still Auror's lips. Draco dragged a chair close and rested his head against Harry's arm, still holding his hand tightly. The gentle sound of Harry's breathing lulled him to sleep.

"Draco?"

The question penetrated the haze of sleep wrapped around Draco and he battled his way to wakefulness. The voice queried again and he raised his head. As he did so he realized he was damned uncomfortable.

His eyes met soft green and remembrance slammed home. He had fallen asleep slumped over Harry's bed.

"Merlin, Harry, you're awake!"

Draco wrenched upward, not caring that his stiff muscles twinged in protest. He enveloped the Auror in an exuberant embrace and pressed soft kisses onto his neck. Harry chuckled.

"Um… I don't seem to be able to move."

The sound of Harry's voice was intoxicating. It was not until that moment that Draco admitted to himself how anxious he had been that Harry might never awaken. He transferred kisses from Harry's neck to his lips. The Auror put up with it for a few moments, until Draco moved back slightly, somewhat annoyed at the lack of response.

"Seriously, Draco, I can't move," Harry said quietly.

Draco sat back in the chair with fresh alarm. He grabbed Harry's hand and squeezed.

"Can you feel this?" he asked.

Harry nodded. "Yes, I just can't move my fingers. Or anything else." Draco caught the note of panic in the Auror's voice.

"Now don't worry. The fact that you have sensation in your limbs is a good sign." Draco hoped. He slid his hands over Harry's arms and then moved them to different parts of his body, enjoying the examination far more than the situation warranted.

"Yes, I can feel that and my feet are ticklish, so please stop," Harry begged. The soft flesh behind Potter's knees provoked much the same response, but it was the gasp he made when Draco's lips fastened on one of his nipples that made Draco chuckle wickedly. He looked up and admired the hot blush decorating the Auror's cheeks.

"You know, I'd stop you doing that if I could move," Harry said.

Draco smiled wickedly. "Would you, now? Would you stop me doing _this_?" He moved his hand down to grasp Harry's cock. Harry gasped again and Draco chuckled.

"I'm beginning to see a lot of potential in this," Draco said and stroked lightly. Harry's shaft began to swell under Draco's movements and he purred slightly. "Well, _something _can still move, Potter."

A hand suddenly fastened in Draco's hair and drew him slowly upward until his lips met Harry's. The Auror kissed him long and hard and then pulled him back to look into his eyes.

"I refuse to be your immobile sex toy," Harry said.

"Will you be my partially mobile sex toy?" Draco asked. "How did you move your arm?"

"Superhuman effort," Harry said and Draco felt the hand in his hair shake almost violently. He reached up and took Harry's hand in his.

"All right, don't strain yourself, Potter. I won't molest you until you ask me to." He let go of Harry's cock and slid his palm over Harry's flat abdomen as he sat up. "Can you squeeze my hand now?'

A sheen of sweat slicked Potter's forehead, but he nodded. "I think so." The fingers clenched slightly around Draco's.

"What about the other hand?"

After a few moments of concentration, Harry managed to curl his left hand into a fist. Draco sighed with satisfaction.

"I think it is temporary, Potter, but I suppose an actual medical opinion might be in order." He marched to the door and sought out the mediwitch on duty. She agreed to summon some staff members to check on Harry. James Potter looked up when Draco entered the waiting room. He noticed Draco's smile and bolted for Harry's room. Draco entered to find the boy sobbing in Harry's arms. He shut the door quietly to give father and son some privacy, and turned to see George Weasley beside him. He informed the redhead of Harry's condition and George immediately sent a Patronus shooting off to Granger. Within minutes, the place was packed with ginger, so Draco offered to take the news to Albus and Lily. He Apparated home and hoped one of the Weasleys would have the foresight to let Teddy know. Family emergency or not, Teddy was still an Auror and they were currently short-staffed. The poor boy had gone to work, even with his hero languishing in the hospital.

Before seeking out the boys, Draco Floo-called the Ministy and let Kingsley know, just in case.


	10. Chapter 10

**Therapy**

Draco Apparated into the library of Malfoy Manor, to find his son and Albus Potter asleep on the sofa. Scorpius looked up after a moment, lifting his head from where it had lolled against the high back. The movement must have dislodged young Potter, for the green eyes snapped open.

Albus sat up quickly and winced when Scorpius's fingers could not disentangle from the black hair fast enough.

"Mr. Malfoy. Is my dad—?"

"He's awake, Albus. He's not entirely well, but we have hope."

"Not well? Hope for what?"

Draco noticed the boy's hand shoot out and entwine with that of Scorpius.

"He can't walk, but it should be a temporary condition. I'll be bringing him home shortly, since I'm certain St. Mungo's is already over capacity for Weasleys and Potter well-wishers."

Albus sat back, half-leaning against Scorpius. Draco realized their behaviour was no different than usual; they had always been a handbreadth apart. He wondered how long they had been more than friends and decided he would rather not know.

"Where is Lily?" Draco asked.

"Um… I'm not sure. I've been asleep for a while, I think."

Draco nodded. "I'll find her." He left the two boys and sought out Harry's daughter, who burst into tears at the news and clung to Draco's neck. He patted her back awkwardly and decided raising a daughter would be very different from raising a son. Girls were so emotional. Still, Draco was willing to give it a try.

Draco returned to St. Mungo's to find the place exactly as expected—a chaotic uproar. Harry's room was full of Weasleys, Aurors, and others, with mediwitches trying vainly to shoo everyone out. Teddy met him at the door and grinned.

"Bit of a madhouse here at the moment," he said.

"I'm surprised they haven't hexed the lot of you," Draco said.

"That would be _your_ solution. Luckily, the St. Mungo's staff has more compassion."

"Not for long, I fear. You should gather this herd and take them to the Manor. Mother is expecting everyone; so don't fret on that account. I think they will all fit in the Blue Ballroom."

With Kingsley Shacklebolt's help the Aurors managed to purge the room of extra bodies, except for James Potter and George Weasley.

"How do you feel?" Draco asked Harry in the near-deafening quiet.

"Better now that I'm not being smothered," Harry admitted with a grin.

"The official diagnosis?" Draco prodded.

Harry sighed. "They are hoping I'll regain full movement within a few weeks. I've been put on indefinite leave from the Department, of course."

Draco made a mock sound of dismay. "How ever shall you survive?"

Harry scowled. "It's not funny. I'll most likely go stark raving mad from boredom."

"I don't think you'll need to worry about getting bored," Draco promised in his most dulcet tones. Harry flushed and his eyes shifted to James, who looked from one of them to the other innocently. His naiveté was charming and Draco recalled how James had dismissed Pansy's words out of hand. James would likely be the least accepting of Harry's new relationship with Draco. If Potter allowed it to happen at all.

"Why is that?" James asked bluntly, ever the Gryffindor.

"Because he'll be staying at Malfoy Manor until he's fully recovered," Draco said and mentally added, _and for as long thereafter as I can keep him_.

"What? No, I couldn't possibly—" Harry began, but Draco waved away his protests.

"The matter is not open for discussion, Potter. You cannot care for the children in your present condition. My mother and I will be more than happy to assist you." Along with a hoard of house-elves, but Draco felt it best not to mention that in case Granger's anti-house-elf sentiment had contaminated the younger Potter.

"I think it's a good idea, Dad," James said before Harry could protest—and he would have. Draco recognized the stubborn line that furrowed Harry's brow and intersected the famous scar.

Harry blinked at James, who added, "I don't think I'm ready to go home yet, without… without mum there."

Harry reached out and took James's hand as the boy fought with tears. Harry's eyes brightened for a moment and Draco's throat felt tight as he witnessed their mutual grief. Regardless of what Ginny had done, she had been a huge part of Harry's life and he was bound to grieve for her, especially for the sake of the children. Draco stepped forward and took Harry's other hand.

"All right,' Harry said. "We'll stay at the Manor for a short time. I'll send Hermione over to pick up some things for the kids."

Draco did not bother to tell him that most of the Potter possessions had already been moved to Malfoy Manor, thanks to the near-Slytherin abilities of Teddy Lupin. Teddy knew damn well that once Harry was fully ensconced in Draco's house, it would be a cold, cold day before Draco would let him leave.

"Let's get you out of here," Draco said, refraining from the last moment from using the word "home."

Draco sent James off with George Weasley, who seemed to be the boy's self-appointed keeper. When they were alone, Harry looked at Draco appraisingly.

"How did you manage to get me all to yourself again?" he asked.

"It's a gift. I'm selfish that way."

Draco picked up a shirt from the folded pile that Granger had dropped off. He wrinkled his nose at the colour—Gryffindor red. "She did that just to torment me," he muttered, but sighed and moved onto the bed to prop up Harry. The Auror put his arms through the sleeves, moving his left arm stiffly and with obvious difficulty. He allowed Draco to fasten the buttons and their eyes locked. Draco grinned at the faint blush tinting Harry's cheeks.

"I must say, in all my fantasies I never imagined I would be dressing you. Generally, the reverse was true."

Harry's blush deepened. "You've fantasized about me?"

"Every damn day," Draco breathed and kissed him. A mediwitch tapped on the door before barging in with last minute instructions and medicines. Draco pulled away reluctantly. The mediwitch was the bubbly, giddy type and if she found it odd for Draco to be kissing the Savior of the Wizarding World, she gave no sign of it.

After she bustled out, Draco put Harry's trousers on, tugging them over unmoving legs and making certain to provide a few squeezes to Harry's tight arse in the process. Harry obviously expected to be groped in other areas as well, so Draco left those studiously alone. There would be plenty of time for that later. Draco would see to it.

Once the Auror was fully dressed, the St. Mungo's staff returned and set Harry up with a wooden contraption that allowed him to stand upright. It was Levitated above the floor slightly and could be moved in any direction with a murmured spell, giving Harry nearly full mobility.

Draco gave Harry his wand and held his breath until Potter cast a few simple spells. He had been somewhat worried that Blaise's spell would affect Harry's magic.

"Can you Apparate to the Manor library?" Draco asked. Harry nodded and disappeared, closely followed by Draco. When they were both in the library, Draco nodded. "Come along," he said briskly. "As much as I would like to have you all to myself, your fans need to know that you're still the Boy Who Lived and Lived and Lived."

"I wish the media would stop with the idiotic titles," Harry complained. They left the library and headed for the stairs, which Harry glanced at in some concern. His mobility device only worked on flat surfaces. Draco bypassed them to walk down the hall, beckoning to Potter. Wrought iron lift doors stood open and Harry looked at them in confusion.

"I don't remember a lift," he said.

Draco shrugged. "Most of your visits did not include a tour of the Manor, Potter, although I would have given you one if you had asked." In truth, Draco had ordered the lift installed as soon as he had left Harry's side earlier in the day. He was impressed that the lift company had managed it in the time Draco had allotted. Apparently the ludicrous bonus he had offered had provided the proper incentive.

"I was afraid a tour would have led directly to your bedchamber," Harry said wryly as Draco pressed the button for the second floor while pretending he had done so dozens of times in the past. He stepped close to Harry.

"Would you like a tour now?"

Harry's throat worked as he swallowed hard, but his eyes were steady on Draco's when he replied, "Only if we start with the bedchamber."

Draco could not recall many times in his life when he had been rendered speechless, but hearing Harry Potter's alluring suggestion seemed to have affected his vocal abilities. Potter grinned wickedly and Draco cursed the lift company when the doors opened flawlessly. The sound of voices carried to them from the nearby ballroom. Harry's lack of mobility might have made shagging against the elevator wall difficult, he admitted as Harry floated into the hall. Difficult, but not impossible.

"Maybe later, then," Harry said with a chuckle.

Draco admired Harry's lean form until the Auror turned to look at him.

"Coming?" Harry asked.

Draco slid an arm around his waist and pressed his lips into the soft skin behind the Auror's ear. "Not yet, but I'm hoping you'll help me with that later."

He slipped around Harry with a wicked chuckle and entered the ballroom. He clapped loudly for attention. Before Draco could make a grand announcement, Granger squealed and threw herself at Harry. She was followed by a river of people who parted only to let the younger Potters through.

Albus and Lily charged at Harry with cries of delight. Harry hugged them both tightly.

"I'd lean down and kiss you both, but I can't quite bend, yet," he said with a grin. Albus looked at him with a worried expression, but Harry reached out and squeezed his shoulder.

"It's all right, Albus. They tell me it's only temporary."

Albus did not look reassured. Draco smiled at him. "He'll be fine, Albus. I'll see to it."

Albus nodded thoughtfully, but he seemed placated. It probably helped that Scorpius took his hand and pulled him away with a murmured comment. Granger smothered Harry in another hug and then the Auror was whisked into the crowd. Draco thought the entire Ministry was in attendance. The atmosphere swung from carefree to mournful and back again. Molly Weasley could not stop sobbing and she clung to Harry until Draco could stomach no more and forcibly hauled the Auror from her side. Harry's face was taut with tension, so Draco pushed him toward Kingsley, who professed sorrow for Harry's loss, but immediately turned the conversation toward the Auror Department. Harry relaxed and soon lost himself in work-related minutiae.

Draco was relieved to see Arthur Weasley take his sobbing wife home shortly thereafter. He caught sight of his mother chatting with Luna Lovegood and resigned himself to his new position as rescuer.

"Scorpius would be an excellent student if only he were not so quick to judge," Luna was saying. Draco's mother smiled, but he could see it was strained.

"Luna," Draco said in greeting.

"Draco," Luna replied. "Lovely party."

"Thank you. I'm sorry to steal my mother away, but there is a matter that needs her attention. Perhaps you could seek out…" Draco tried to think of a person he was willing to inflict her presence upon.

"Violet-winged Enmols?" she finished for him and nodded seriously. "They live in the walls of old houses like these, you know."

"Quite right," Draco said and fled with his mother in tow.

"Do you think she should be teaching Defense Against the Dark Arts?" she asked and Draco laughed.

"No, probably not. That's why I spend so much time with Scorpius in the summer, undoing her teachings."

"And you simply like being with your son. Ah, there is Andromeda with Teddy. Go take care of your Harry, now, dear."

Draco started at her words, but she glided away to join her sister, leaving Draco wondering how much she knew. He shrugged. His mother always seemed to know everything, and it was likely Teddy had explained all with his usual inability to stay quiet.

Harry looked tired and he had gravitated back to a group of depressed Weasleys. Damn the woman for dying nobly; even dead she was getting in Draco's way. He marched forward and put a comradely arm around Harry's shoulders. His glare dared Ron Weasley to speak.

"I must borrow Harry for a minute," Draco said and steered him toward a corner before Harry could get his bearings and stop him. Draco did not allow him to speak. "You look tired. I think it's time to call it a night."

Harry's response was choked off as he gasped and stared beyond Draco's shoulder. Draco froze, fearing some new threat.

"Your son just kissed my son," Harry said.

Draco relaxed with a grin and asked, "Which one?"

"Albus! Scorpius kissed Albus."

Draco wrapped his arms around Harry and moved his palm over the Auror's chest as he leaned close. "Mmm, I can assure you, it's not the first time."

"But… but what if they…?"

"What if one of them gets pregnant?" Draco asked in a shocked tone. Harry flushed and scowled.

"No, of course not, but…"

"Then you are trying for the Hypocrite of the Year Award?"

Harry turned his head until he met Draco's eyes. "Stop being reasonable."

"Shall I march over in indignation and demand that they fall out of love immediately?"

Scorpius and Albus had disappeared, probably escaping the potential wrath of Potter.

"Do you really think they're in love?" Harry asked.

Draco sighed. "I see your Gryffindor naiveté has not diminished. Have you not seen them together?"

"Huh," Harry said eloquently. Draco pinched him. "Ow! What was that for?"

"Sorry, force of habit when confronted with stupidity. I'm taking you to bed now."

Harry's indignation became spluttering nonsense when Draco's words sank in. Without a word to anyone, Draco ushered the Auror out the door. He did wave gleefully to Teddy, who gave him a nod and a grin. Harry was silent as Draco escorted him down the long hallway that led to Draco's room.

The door had barely shut behind them when Draco walked to the desk and dropped his wand into the carved wand stand. He unbuttoned his robes partially and turned back to Harry.

"Shouldn't I… um…" Draco smiled at Harry's nervous stammer and waited to see where it would lead. "I'm… um.. really tired and I should—"

Draco felt a flare of amusement at Harry's sudden shyness. He marched forward and crooned, "Well, we had better get you into bed then, hadn't we?" His fingers made quick work of Harry's hideously colored shirt and he slipped it off of the unresisting Auror.

Draco gazed at Harry's naked torso before reaching out a hand to touch his chest. He splayed his fingers over the Auror's heart in a reverent motion and then drew his hands down over Harry's ribs to curve around the his waist and pull him close. Their first kiss was sweet, full of the love Draco wanted Harry to feel. He gently teased the Auror's lips, hoping to melt the silly nervous reserve Potter had developed. Draco held the kiss as long as possible and was rewarded when Harry relaxed against him. The Auror's hands touched Draco's waist and he took it as a sign to deepen the kiss.

He snogged Harry thoroughly and well until the Auror's hand tightened in his robes and he made an impatient sound. Draco's hands moved freely over Harry's skin, caressing his back and moving down to cup his fine arse. Draco pressed their pelvises together and delighted in the feel of Harry's hardness against his own.

"Still tired, Potter?" he asked against the wet lips before dipping his head to taste Harry's neck. The Auror made a sweet huff of sound.

"No," he admitted. His hands pulled at Draco's robes and Draco stopped touching Harry long enough to shuck free of them. He wrapped Harry in another embrace and moved him gently to the bed before he borrowed Harry's wand and cast a _Finite Incantatum_. Harry toppled backwards onto the bed as the mobility charm ended and the device fell to the floor. Draco tossed the wand haphazardly on the edge of the bed, near enough for the Auror to Summon it if he felt it necessary.

He pushed Harry to the center of the bed and then hovered over him. His hand caressed Harry's erection lightly to keep from losing him back to nerves.

"I had planned to let you top, Potter, but under the circumstances…" He leaned down and mouthed Harry's cock through his trousers, chuckling when the Auror gasped. Draco made quick work of the fastenings and eased the trousers down Harry's inert legs, making sure to caress the length of them as he did so.

Draco reared back for a moment and paused to admire Harry's naked body.

"Merlin, Potter," he managed and then straddled Harry to gather him into a wanton kiss. Harry's hands caught in his hair and he made a cute sound when Draco gripped his erection before moving his fingers lower. Draco broke the kiss and backtracked until his face hovered over Harry's groin. He dipped his head and nuzzled Harry's testicles with his lips, teasing them gently and delighting in the gasping response. Sensitive, then.

Draco raised his head and grinned at Harry while trailing his fingers through the dark curls at the base of Harry's cock.

"Want more, Potter?" he asked playfully.

"Yes, damn you."

"Then you'll have to move your toes for me."

"Pardon?"

"Simple. You move the toes of your right foot and I take this—" He blew gently on Harry's lovely cock. "Into my mouth. Understand?"

"Is that your idea of physical therapy?" Harry demanded.

"Take it or leave it."

"I hate you… but I'll take it."

Draco sat back and clinically watched Harry's foot. He waited hopefully while the Auror's brow wrinkled in concentration. For a moment, Draco thought the Auror would not be able to do it and he nearly regretted his impulse.

Then the toes flexed, not once but three times. Draco laughed in relief. "We'll have you good as new in no time, Potter. All you need is the right incentive."

"Slytherin bast—" Harry's words cut off abruptly with a cry as Draco fulfilled his part of the bargain, taking Harry's entire length as though trying to swallow him whole. Draco's fingers gently probed Harry's nether regions and the Auror tensed.

"Draco, wait, I—"

Draco released him and slid up to cup the Auror's cheek. "Harry. I won't hurt you."

Harry swallowed and let out a breath before he nodded.

"You know I love you," Draco added. The Auror visibly relaxed and his gaze softened.

"I know. All… all right, then."

Draco prepared Harry as gently as possible, using fingers, lips, and tongue to keep Harry gasping on the edge of orgasm until the Auror's hands nearly tore the covers from the bed.

"Okay, fuck, do it already," Harry said as Draco's fingers—three of them—flexed again inside the Auror. Draco obligingly removed his fingers and slid his cock into the willing depths of his lover. He kept his eyes on Harry's as he did so and smiled when the green orbs grew wider and wider.

"All right?" Draco asked when he was fully sheathed. Harry nodded. Draco's hands held Harry's hips tightly as he pulled out and thrust in quickly. He repeated the motion and the Auror made a choking cry.

"Still all right?"

"Better than all right," Harry breathed. "Do that again."

Draco did. And he repeated the motion until he felt his orgasm beginning to take over. Harry's cock was leaking and Draco reached down to pull it in time with his thrusts. The mere touch did it for Harry and his cock twitched in Draco's hand as hot come sprayed between them. Harry's release tore an inaudible cry from the Auror's lips. The tensing of already tight muscles sent Draco spiraling out of control and he poured himself into Harry in explosive release.

He dropped limply onto the Auror and pressed his lips against Harry's salty neck.

"Wow," said Harry and Draco laughed.

"Such eloquence, Potter."

"Then how about brilliant, astounding, incredible, and why the fuck didn't we start doing this twenty years ago?"

"Because you were a complete prat then?"

Harry chuckled. Draco loved the way the Auror's hands glided over Draco's back, holding him in place.

"No dredging up the past," Harry said. "Let's just move forward."

Draco lifted himself enough to kiss Harry tenderly on the lips. "Here's to moving forward."

Harry's arms tightened and Draco sighed in contentment. "Let me know when you want some more physical therapy," Draco mumbled sleepily as he settled his head against Harry's shoulder.

"I foresee needing a_lot_ of physical therapy."

Draco hugged him closer with a smile. There was quite a lot of Slytherin under all that Gryffindor.

The End (mostly) This has been one crazy ride. When I started my cute little Albus/Scorpius fic I didn't expect it to grow into a double saga and end up over 72,000 words complete, but it's been fun! Many thanks to Esby, my beta, and ravenqueen55 on LJ for demanding the Harry/Draco portion of this fic. Love to all my readers and everyone that reviewed. Hundreds of hugs!!!


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